Saving The Widow
by Kayliem1999
Summary: Natasha was only a teenager when she was saved from her past by nonother than a teenage Clint Barton. A friendship/partnership quickly ensued along with trust. Will the beautiful Bobbi Morse destroy the bond? Super long fic, eventual Clintasha. Covers every appearance each the widow and hawk have in every movie (Ironman, Thor and Avengers,) as well as my own twist. Summary sucks!
1. Chapter 1: Little Girl

**So this is my second story attempt at an Avenger's fic. Excuse the fact that this is obviously not what Marvel intended for the dynamic duo. This is my own spin and I hope you guys like it. **

**I DO NOT own the Avengers or Marvel or anything else.**

* * *

Natasha noticed him watching her and she was waiting for his 'secret' attack. That's why she wasn't prepared for the attack from some secret service agent. He was an impatient fighter and lacked many key skills, but she managed to break a few ribs and do some damage to her knew. Of course, she ended up killing the 'old man.' To Natasha, he was an old man, she was only fourteen years old. The boy following her couldn't have been much older; eighteen at the most.

The girl limped back to her home –the apartment of the owned by some guy she had killed the day before. She tossed her daggers, guns and clips on the dining room table. She pulled her fiery red curls into a ponytail and began peeling off the cat-suit that had become her 'uniform.'

From her window, he saw the black spider tattoo on her shoulder and the number tattooed on her lower abdomen just above her underwear line. He knew she was dangerous despite the innocent look that was painted on her face. He knew he wouldn't be able to kill her the second he saw her when she was alone. Like him, she had suffered from a rough past. Except, he had escaped it, she had not.

Clint watched as she climbed into the big bed and placed the gun on her nightstand. She pulled the blanket over her small body and curled up. He could tell by the even rise and fall of her chest that she was asleep.

* * *

Like every other, Natasha's sleep was haunted with snippets of her past. She awoke in a cold sweat with tears in her eyes. It was still dark outside when her terrified scream awoke Clint. He had knocked an arrow and was ready to kill whoever was attacking her before he noticed she had awoken from a nightmare. He lowered the bow and watched her pull her knees to her chest and rested her head on her knees. The Black Widow shook with sobs and vulnerability. She wasn't fighting it either because she didn't know he was watching at this insane time.

When the tears stopped, Natasha stood and left the room. She returned a few minutes later with her gun shoved in the waistband of her underwear and a leather notebook in her hand. He watched her write and noticed the terror drain from her face. Yawning, she put the worn-out notebook on the nightstand and switched off the lamp. Her head dropped against the pillow and she was immediately asleep.

* * *

There was a blade in his hands and another pressed against his throat. His bow and quiver were laying on the warehouse floor and her guns were likewise. One movement would end both of their lives immediately. They were turning in circles with their eyes plastered into a deadly stare down. He noticed the worn out notebook on her belt along with the empty holsters. That's when her knee gave out and she collapsed hitting her head on the hard concrete floor. Her eyes closed and she lied on the cold floor in an unconscious heap.

Panicking, Clint crouched down next to the unconscious girl on the floor. He didn't even know her name, but the desire to protect her overflowed in his body. According to the file SHIELD had provided him with, no one knew much about her –except that she was young and dangerous. However, from leads that had eventually gone cold, she was barely a teenager.

"Kill her, now," Agent Coulson demanded into his radio chip. "This is the best shot you've ever had."

"I can't," Clint whispered not tearing his eyes from the neglected being in front of him.

"YOU CAN"T," Coulson yelled.

"Coulson, she's just a little girl. Probably the same age I was when _you_ saved me."

"This _little girl_ is the definition of 'kill on sight.' She's been on SHIELD's radar thirty-seven times in the last five years."

Clint ignored is handler and picked up the girl and cradled her in his arms. He knew she had been hiding the pain she was in, he had seen the gigantic bruise on her left side. He unbuttoned her shirt and gently removed it. There it was the disgusting bruise he had seen the night before. It was a mixture of a bunch of colors, non of which were pretty.

* * *

**So, that was short, but trust me the chapters will be longer. If you have any suggestions or comments, please PM me or review. I'm desperate for reader satisfation! If you hate this story, tell me too. **

**Until we meet again,**

**Kaylie**

**3**


	2. Chapter 2: Puppy Names

**So, I had this chapter written befor I even posted this fic, but then I changed it completely. So, tell me what you think. **

**I DO NOT own the Avengers or Marvel.**

* * *

Her head was pounding as her eyes fluttered open. She noticed him sitting at her feet with his head in his hands. She scrambled back until her back was smashed against the arm of the floral couch she was occupying.

"Who are you?" She demanded frantically searching for an escape.

"I'm Clint," he said extending his hand.

"Who do you work for," she asked refusing to touch him as if he was some infectious disease.

"SHIELD."

She recognized the name, they were one of the many organizations that wanted her dead. She had killed nearly forty of their men over the years. They were persistent, she would hand them that.

"Aren't you a little young to be a SHIELD agent," she asked just noticing that she was only in a pair of jeans and her black lacey bra.

"Aren't you a little young to be a world class assassin wanted in fifty different countries," he countered.

"Touché," she said relaxing.

"So, what is your real name and age? No one really had gotten close enough to you and lived to retell it."

"Natasha Romanoff," she smiled reminiscing on all of her handy work. "I don't even know my real age, though._ They_ told me I was born sometime in '92."

"I'm eighteen," Clint sighed.

"Where are we," Natasha asked taking in her surroundings. She was currently sitting on a couch that matched the awful floral décor of the family room they were sitting in.

"A safe house."

"Your safe house or SHIELD's safe house?" She asked panic boiling in her stomach.

"Mine," Clint reassured. "Are you hungry?"

Natasha's stomach growled in response and she smile sheepishly. It had been nearly a week since she had last eaten; of course she was hungry.

* * *

"Barton, what were you thinking," a voice Natasha didn't recognize screamed.

"I was thinking that she deserved a second chance," Clint fired back.

That's when they noticed that Natasha was awake. Once her eyes focused, she saw Clint standing in front of her protectively. The other person was a man who was glowering at her with his pallid face, but his eyes were soft.

"This was the best we could do for now, Widow," the man said tossing her some clothes and storming out the house with the slamming of the front door. Gingerly, she picked up the clothes and observed them if they could blow up at any given second. It was simple; supper skinny jeans, a white tank top and a pink checkered button up.

"Who was that?" Natasha asked pulling the tank top over her head.

"Phil Coulson, my handler. He's a nice guy unless you're on his bad side," Clint explained

"And I've spent the last five years getting on his bad side," Natasha sighed pulling on the button up –that was at least two sizes too big –and tied it at the bottom.

"He'll warm up to you…eventually."

* * *

Clint lead her to the jet waiting for them at checkpoint. A miffed Phil Coulson stood by the door glaring at the two teenagers. His vision shifted to the small girl standing next to his best agent. She wore the clothes he had given her as well as laced up black boots and Clint's hoodie. There was a small black backpack on her shoulder and Coulson assumed they had made a stop at her apartment. His thoughts were quickly interrupted when a black SUV same barreling towards them and the occupants had opened fire.

"Shit," Natasha breathed.

"Friends of yours?" Clint asked with a hint of a smile on his face.

"Something like that," Natasha smirked pulling a gun out of her bag. Clint had his quiver and bow out and the two opened fire. They successfully broke the vehicle's windshield and started taking out the occupants that were still conscious. Natasha's eyes caught on a familiar face and she fired at him without hesitation. The bullet hit him in the center of the forehead like Natasha had intended. Clint shot an arrow that landed on the hood of the car. He pressed a button on his bow that caused an explosion to rocket through the area. The two were thrown backwards as Natasha screamed out a Russian threat to whoever hadn't died in the car yet.

"Я буду видеть вас всех в аду (I'll see you all in hell,)" she barked.

Her back hit the exterior of the jet and she cried out in pain. She landed on the ground gasping and coughing up blood. "Barton," she couched.

"Over here," he rasped crawling over to her. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she lied. "How about you?"

"I've been better," he coughed pulling himself off of the grass soaked in blood.

He extended his hand to Natasha and she took it. Clint pulled her off of the ground and she leant against him for support.

"Liar," he said picking her up and carrying her inside the Quin-jet. It was obvious by the way her leg was bent that it was broken and the blood spilling out of the gash on her forehead was a little concerning.

Her eyes fluttered shut again and she her head rested limply on his chest.

"Coulson," Clint said laying her down on the bench. "We need a medic."

Coulson waved his hand and the medic team flooded the space around the sleeping widow. Clint got pushed out of the way and was about to protest until Coulson interrupted him.

"She's fine, Clint," he said reassuringly. "Fury is going to kill you."

"Yeah, I know."

"Hope you're prepared to train her."

"She'd kill anyone else."

* * *

"What the hell were you thinking, Barton," Fury demanded. "Wait, I know the answer, you weren't thinking."

"Sir," Clint started, but was cut off by the single-eyed director.

"You _will_ train her and _she_ will be your responsibility. You better thank whatever god that will listen that I didn't kill you and her right her."

Clint hated this. Not that he was getting yelled, he hated the fact that Fury was talking about Natasha like she wasn't even in the room.

"Yes, Sir," Clint sighed.

"You are dismissed, take your little pet with you," Fury said digging through the stack of papers on his desk.

Clint stood and stalked out of the room with Natasha close behind.

"That went better than I thought it would," Natasha said.

"You think that went well?" Clint scoffed.

"He didn't kill me, it was obvious he wanted to, but he didn't," Natasha said.

"Why are you being optimistic, Nat,"

"'Cause I'm still alive," she pointed out. "Wait, did you just call me Nat?"

"Yeah," he smirked. "Do you have a problem with that," he teased.

Before he even blinked, his back was pressed against a metal wall and there was a knife pressed to his throat.

"Yes, actually I do," she spat.

"Could you please let me go, people are starting to stare," Clint said referring to the crown they were attracting.

"Don't give me a stupid pet name," she demanded pulling away and stalking toward the gym.

Clint ran his hand over his throat and ran after her. This was going to be harder than he thought.

* * *

**I hope you like it, please review. **

**Love,**

**Kaylie**


	3. Chapter 3: Bad Guys

**I DO NOT own Avengers or Marvel!**

* * *

"I have a mission for you," Fury said pushing his way into the gym.

Clint had Natasha pinned against the mat and there was spit dangling over her face. She was squirming trying to push him off of her.

"Barton, you are not children, quit spitting on Agent Romanoff."

The two stood and Natasha stuck her tongue out at Clint smugly.  
"Romanoff, I understand that you're still a child, but at least act respectable," Fury scolded.

"Sorry, sir," Natasha whispered looking sheepishly at her feet.

"Wheels up in an hour," Fury instructed exiting the gym.

Natasha sighed reaching for her bag and started toward her room with Clint close behind. They walked in silence except for the sounds of their footsteps on the grated metal floor. This would be their fifth mission together and by now, Natasha realized just how clumsy Clint was and how idiotic he was. He usually got injured during a mission whether it be because he was trying to protect her or it was just plain stupidity.

* * *

She entered her room silently and the door slid shut before her partner could say anything to her. She was greeted by a file on her unmade bed that Coulson had dropped off. She smiled to herself, she knew if you worked for SHIELD you basically gave up every ounce of privacy you thought you had the right to. Turns out that there were people out there even more paranoid than herself. Sighing, she lifted the folder from her bed and threw it on the floor. Natasha walked to her closet and jumped to reach the duffle bag on the top shelf. She threw it carelessly on her bed and started shoving clothes and weapons into the bag. She threw open her closet door again and dug around until she found the box she was looking for. She threw the lid over her shoulder and pulled out the skin-tight leather shirt that lied on top. Quickly, she pulled off her work out clothes and replaced them with her new SHIELD issue uniform. She buckled the belt to her waist and pulled on the matching holsters. She filled the holsters with the guns in the bottom of the box and strapped her dagger to her leg. Natasha put her aviators on, grabbed the duffle bag, picked up the folder and exited her room.

Clint was waiting for her with his back pressed to the wall opposite of the door she just exited. When he noticed her, he picked up his own bag and followed her to the hangar. Clint had put on his own suit and his quiver had already been clipped onto his back. Natasha assumed his bow was in his duffle bag.

"I wonder where they're sending us this time," Natasha thought aloud as they marched through the tangled hallways aboard the Helicarrier.

"Valencia, Spain," Clint replied. "Some arms dealer running operation in a hospital."

"In and out," Natasha guessed.

"Get in, gather intel, kill the psycho before kills us, get out without harming any civilians."

"Sounds like a challenge, I haven't had any good fun in awhile."

"Been three months since our last field job."

"Cause someone took a bullet to the stomach that would've missed me," Natasha reminded him.

"I thought it was going to hit your head," Clint defended.

"My head isn't that big, Einstein," Natasha laughed.

They were silent again. Natasha couldn't stop her mind from wandering to that moment in the medical wing.

* * *

_Flashback_

_He was bleeding out, she knew that much. Natasha knew she was running out of time. When she saw the Helicarrier through the windshield of the jet her heart leaped into her throat. _

_"Clint, just hold a little longer," she said choking back tears. _

_He didn't say anything, but nodded his head and reached for her hand. Both of their hands were covered in his blood and he had bled through another bandage she had made from whatever was in the jet. _

_"Coulson, we need a medic team to the hangar immediately. I'm bringing in a bird and I have Clint. He's gonna bleed out if her doesn't get medical attention," Natasha choked into the comm. Link holding his hand. _

_"Copy that Widow," Coulson replied. _

_Somewhat steadily, Natasha brought the jet down and opened the hatch. The medic team flooded the jet and Natasha exited unnoticed. _

_Coulson found her in the gym beating a punching bag. He wasn't surprised to find her there. He also wasn't surprised that she hadn't cleaned Barton's blood off of her hands or uniform. _

_"So, where did you get the jet," Phil asked walking up behind her._

_She turned to face him and he saw the tears on her face. "Do you really want to know," she asked wiping her face leaving a trail of blood. _

_"Probably not," he said._

_"I panicked and I called in a favor. It was just one of my informants from when I was still on the streets. I'm not exactly proud of it, but I did the first thing I could think of."_

_"You know he's gonna be alright," Coulson said._

_"He wouldn't even be in the hospital if it weren't for me."_

_"He wouldn't be alive if it hadn't been for you either."_

_She didn't say anything._

_"You know he would do anything for you, right? He thinks of you like a little sister and would give up anything to make sure you were okay," Coulson said sitting on the bench next to Natasha. "He needs you as much as you need him, too."_

_"Why did he save me," she asked. " I mean, I know he always says that I deserved a second chance too, but why do I feel like he hasn't told me the whole story?"_

_"That's something you're gonna have to ask him."_

_Natasha sighed and stood up._

_"Natasha," Coulson said startling her. Clint was the only one who used her name. She was usually 'Widow' or "Romanoff' to everyone else. "He's out of surgery and has been asking for you for awhile. Why don't you go get cleaned up and go see him."  
She smiled and nodded at him. Natasha turned on her heel and made her way to the medical wing ignoring Coulson suggestion to clean up. _

_"Hi," she said standing in the doorway._

_"Hey," he rasped._

_"How you feeling," she smiled at him._

_"I've been better."_

_She scoffed and sat down at the foot of his bed. _

_"You're helpless you know that, right?" She smirked at him._

_"But you love me anyway."_

_Her eyes widened at the word love. She had always claimed love was for children and that hadn't changed._

_"Love is for children," she whispered._

_"Hate to break it to you, Nat, but last time I checked you were legally a child."_

_"You're lucky you almost died earlier or I would kill you right now. You know very well not to call me 'Nat' and last time I checked, most kids can't think of sixty-two different ways to kill a man with a spoon."_

_He chuckled and winced at the same time. _

_"I didn't almost die; I'm just keeping you on your toes."_

_Natasha rolled her eyes then curled up next to him on the hospital bed. _

* * *

"Hawkeye, where are you," Natasha coughed into the comm.

Like every other mission, this one had not gone as planned. The hospital was in flames and she was still on the fifth floor searching for her partner. If she didn't get out soon, she knew she would pass out from the smoke. Her vision was beginning to blur, her throat burned, she was light headed and she was tripping on her own feet.

Part of Natasha kept telling her this was her fault. She had recognized the dealer as one of the men from the Black Widow program and she let her emotions take over. Without thinking it through, she shot a series of spider bites at him and one of them didn't nit him. One of the bites hit the crate behind him and it exploded seconds later throwing her back along with the corpse of the man. Before she knew it, the hospital was burning and her comm. was broken.

"Widow," she heard Clint cough.  
She saw him and waited for him to get to her before she started moving again. They smoke was getting thick again and it was getting harder to see. His hand wrapped around hers and she gripped his hand determined to never loose him. They hears children screaming and they both ran towards it. There were two children and a baby stuck in the ward. Natasha could see them through the window on the door to their room.

"Back away from the door," she instructed. They did as she asked and Clint broke it down with a kick. Natasha ran in first and picked up the baby and Clint was close behind picking up the two children who were screaming.

Another explosion erupted through the unstable building and Clint and Natasha picked up speed. They pushed their way through the hospital doors and they backed away from the building quickly. When they were a hundred yards away, they stopped running and turned toward the building. It collapsed and what was left of the weapons exploded.

"We're out," Clint breathed heavily into his comm. "We have three kids with us and they need medics."

Clint nodded to himself and turned toward Natasha. He noticed the gash oh her cheek and how ripped up her uniform was. She was covered in soot and he guessed her probably looked just as bad. Natasha looked down at the baby that had fallen asleep in her lap. She smiled involuntarily and Clint looked at her.

"You know, before I escaped, I always dreamed of getting out and remaking myself. Be a normal person and go to school, get married, and have kids," Natasha admitted looking at the baby. "That probably sounds ridiculous," she chuckled looking up at him.

"No, it doesn't. I used to want the same thing. I _still _want it," Clint smiled looking at the two kids who were playing a game of rock paper scissors. He laughed slightly amazed at how they had just been in a fire and almost died and they were playing.

"I could never be a mother," Natasha said. "I'm always going to be a murderer no matter what side I play on."

"Nat, you're a good guy now," Clint said.

"That doesn't make what we're doing right," she countered. "We're killing people who pose as a threat to SHIELD, maybe _we're_ the bad guys."

"Stop thinking like that," Clint said.

They dropped the subject and waited for the jet.

* * *

**Please review.**

**Love,**

**Kaylie**


	4. Chapter 4: Anniversary

**So, this chapter is longer and I hope you like it. **

**I DO NOT own the Avengers or Marvel!**

* * *

The dreams were plaguing her again tonight. The men from Red Room using her as their own toy. The threats they cast upon her. But most of all, the way they found the people who had birthed her and made her watch them burn. The blood they made her spill as pay for the debts her parents had racked up. The punishments that hardened her and left her barely alive. The feeling of the knife pierce her arms and legs every time she fought back.

Like every other night, she shot out of bed with tears streaming involuntarily down her cheeks. She shook uncontrollably as she rocked herself trying to convince herself that it was over. She knew it wasn't over, they had made sure she would remember _it_ forever even if she did escape. Even though it had been almost seven years since she had escaped –and almost a two since Clint had rescued her –she was still terrified to close her eyes.

Sighing, she dragged herself out of her bed and she stepped into the hallways of the Helicarrier that had been her home for the last year. Her footsteps were silent against the metal floors as she tiptoed to the room next door.

Clint. She had to find him. She came to his room and tapped on the door lightly. The door slid open and Clint stood in the doorway yawning.

"Nat," he greeted noticing the dried tears on her cheeks. "Wanna talk about it?

She didn't say anything, terrified her voice would crack. He moved away from the door and she padded in.

"Would you like to stay," he asked.

She nodded and followed him towards his twin bed.

He climbed in and so did she. Natasha pulled the covers up to her chin and pressed her back to his warm body. He draped one arm over her waist and she used the other as a pillow. He curled around her body protectively and kissed her head again. When Clint was there, she didn't have the _dreams_; her sleep was peaceful and dreamless. She slept her best with him, bit he didn't know that. For now, that was okay with her.

* * *

She awoke the next morning to the sound of Fury's voice ringing through Clint's room. Instinctively, she shot out of bed and stood next to it embarrassed. It wasn't like they had done anything, but it was obvious they had broken SHIELD protocol.

"Barton, I put up with you bringing in a stray for your personal pet," Fury yelled. Natasha knew he was talking about her becoming a SHIELD agent and she had learned not to be offended by what he said. "But I will not have my two best agents having sexual relations."

"Whoa, slow down there," Clint said. "We were only sleeping."

"Nothing like that happened," Natasha added wrinkling her nose. "Wait, your two best agents? I thought you hated me."

"Even I know not to hate someone who can kill me with her little finger," Fury said storming out of the room not totally convinced the teenagers weren't _together._ He had never encountered teenagers outside of SHIELD, but based on what he had heard, they were nothing more than walking sexual tension with acne.

"Sir, you know the Widow is still guarded when it comes to relationships and feelings," Agent Hill said walking up to Fury.

"I don't see how that is relevant," Fury replied continuing to march angrily.

Clint and Natasha stood on opposite sides of the bed refusing to meet each other's gaze. Fury just made things awkward.

"Well, he knows how to make an entrance," Clint chuckled looking at Natasha.

"And awkward," she added looking at him.

He stuck his tongue out at her and she laughed a small laugh before Coulson walked in.

"New mission for you guys," he announced handing them each a folder.

"Budapest?" Natasha asked opening the folder. "What's in Budapest?"

"Another arms dealer?" Clint asked disbelieving. "Let me guess, this one is based out of a nursing home." He still wasn't over the hospital fire despite what he told the SHIELD mandatory psychiatrist.

"No," Coulson bit back clearly unamused. "An abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of a small town. If you guys screw up again, two thousand people won't pay for it."

"Hey, that was an accident," Clint defended.

"I don't even know why I expected that mission to go well," Coulson said rubbing the bridge of his nose. "None of your missions go as planned."

"Actually, they do," Clint started.

"But Mr. I-don't-need-help-from-a-little-girl can't formulate a good plan."

"And Miss I-can-kill-you-thirty-seven-different-ways-with-my -little-finger doesn't like to listen to anything I have to say in the field."

"I'm surprised you guys are actually still alive," he muttered exiting the room. His agents were a good example of why he never wanted to have kids, they were so… childish.

* * *

"So, this is Budapest," Natasha said unimpressed clicking the safety off of her gun. To her is was just another place where she would kill a bunch of thugs.

"You know, today is our anniversary," Clint said with his bow ready to shoot anyone who jumped out at them.

"We aren't some old married couple," Natasha said bitterly. "We don't have an _anniversary."_ The thought made a lump form in her throat and she gulped uneasily.

"I meant it's the second anniversary of that day in Moscow," he said.

"Yeah, I know what you meant," Natasha said pushing open the door to the warehouse.

"So, we should celebrate," Clint added firing his arrow at the first man who ran into range. An alarm blared through the old building and Natasha fired her gun randomly trying to take out anyone who came toward her. She was doing pretty well until her clip ran out. She shoved another clip in and returned fire.

"How do you suggest we celebrate," she screamed over the sound of gun fire. A man ran at her and she jumped gracefully and wrapped her thighs around his head. She shifted her body weight and heard the familiar snap of his neck.

"Wanna go out for ice cream when we finish this job," he yelled cracking some guys skull with his bow.

"Sure," she shouted.

They were out numbered a hundred to two, but it was obvious they were going to win. And they did; easily. When the last man collapsed to the ground with a dagger sticking out of his back, they knew they weren't out of the clear yet.

"Coulson told me to blow up the warehouse," Clint said wiping the blood off of his busted lip. "He also said you need to stop taking out your comm. or he's gonna get it surgically implanted in your head."

Natasha chuckled pulling the tiny spider device off of her belt. Her latest toy from SHIELD, spider bombs.

"My turn," she said clicking the button on the top of the spider. Natasha tossed it and the two ran from the building laughing. The explosion flung them into the air and Natasha landed gracefully into some new tumbling trick she had picked up. Clint landed in a jumbled heap on the gravel ground groaning.

"Told you gymnastics weren't girly," she joked sticking her hand out. He took it and she pulled him off of the ground.

"So, how 'bout that ice cream," Clint smiled.

Natasha rolled her eyes and started walking away.

* * *

"You have to be kidding me," Clint stated disbelieving.

"What, I've never had ice cream before, sue me," Natasha replied like it was nothing.

"How have you never had ice cream before and your like, what, fifteen?"

"Sixteen," Natasha corrected. "Sorry, but when you're an assassin and you don't get 'turned to the good side' until your fourteen, you don't exactly get to do fun stuff. I was more worried about staying alive then what normal people do."

Clint handed her a small paper cup with vanilla ice cream in it and picked his own up off the counter. He stared at her expectantly.

"What," she asked picking the spoon up.

"I wanna see your face when you take your first bite," Clint replied.

Rolling her eyes, she dug her spoon into the mountain of frozen cream in her bowl and shoveled it into her mouth.

"This is actually pretty good," she said taking another bite.

"See, what did I tell you?" Clint smiled.

"You're such a child," Natasha chuckled.

They were quiet each eating their own ice cream. When they finished, they threw away their trash and walked leisurely toward checkpoint. They arrived laughing and met Phil at the hatch.

* * *

"Where the hell have you two been," Coulson demanded obviously pissed off.

"We had some important business to attend to," Clint offered trying to stifle his laughter.

"Care to explain, we were supposed to leave two hours ago," Coulson shouted.

"Well, you see, the Widow over here had never had ice cream before and I figured that 'cause it was our anniversary that she deserved to have her first cup of ice cream," Clint explained.

Natasha was full out laughing at this point.

"Care to tell me what's so funny, Romanoff," Coulson demanded.

"No, sir, sorry," she cleared her throat.

"Get on the jet, now," Coulson said.

The nineteen year old and the sixteen year old climbed on with their heads turned to the grimy floor of the quinjet.

* * *

As the jet continued to fly back to the Helicarrier, Natasha slowly drifted off to sleep with her head rested on Clint's shoulder.

"What's on your mind, Barton? You've been acting weird for awhile now and I need to know what it is before it gets you killed," Coulson said sitting down on the bench.

"It's nothing," Clint said.

"Don't give me that crap, Clint," Coulson said with worry on his face.

"I don't even understand it, but I feel like I have to protect her," he said.

"That's love, Barton. And before you send an arrow through my head, not all love is the kind of love people have when they're married. I can see it in your eyes, you love her, but it's like a brother loving his little sister."

"Love is for children," Barton whispered quoting Natasha.

"You guys _are_ children," Coulson reminded him standing up and returning to the co-pilot seat in the cockpit.

* * *

When they landed, Natasha woke up and dragged herself out of the hangar. All she really wanted to do was take a hot shower and sleep and that's what she did. She intentionally ignored Coulson's request to have the debriefing that when they landed.

Natasha entered her room and ripped all the clothes on her body. She turned the water on hot in her shower and stepped under it. It was like she could feel the blood and dirt slowly run off her boy with the water trickling over her skin.

After about an hour, she turned the water off and wrapped the thick towel around her body. Humming to herself she pushed open the bathroom door and walked back into her room. Exhausted, she pulled on a sports bra and some underwear and climbed into her bed without bothering to put pajamas on. Yawning, she pulled the covers over her body and fell asleep instantly.

* * *

Clint walked out of the hangar with his duffle bag slung over his shoulder. Eventually, he got to his room and typed in the code. The door slid open and he entered. He peeled his uniform off of his body and climbed into the shower. Clint turned the water on and let the water run over his body. He turned the water off after awhile and wrapped a towel around his waist. He flopped face first into his bed and pulled his towel off. Before he could even put on his boxers, he was asleep completely naked.

* * *

"Barton, get up," Natasha said walking into his room dressed in skinny jeans, a crop-top sweater that revealed a lot more midriff than she preferred, her black lace up boots and her hair into a messy bun on the side of her head. He stood up rubbing his eyes and she let out a scream turning around. "Where the hell are your clothes?"

"Sorry, he said rummaging through his drawers. He pulled on his boxers. "It's safe to look he chuckled."

"Well, I was coming in to wish you a happy birthday, but now I've been scared for life," Natasha teased.

"Yeah, I guess I forgot to put clothes on after my shower last night," Clint said.

"Ya think?" Natasha smirked. "Well, happy birthday, I have a present for you, but you'll have to come to my room to get it."

She turned on her heel leaving Clint. He ran after her and followed her into her room.

"What was it that you wanted to give to me," Clint asked.

"Close your eyes," she demanded tapping her foot.

He did as he was told and she walked to her closet.

"Okay, open them," she said.

He opened his eyes and saw Natasha holding a bow and quiver in her hands.

"I figured 'cause you screwed up your bow in Spain, you needed a new one. I would've given it to you sooner, but Hill delivered it to my room this morning."

"How did you know it was my birthday?"

"I have my ways."

"SHIELD data base?"

"Obviously, Phil's password is 'Phil Rocks' it doesn't take a genius to figure it out," Natasha chuckled.

"Thank you," Clint said taking the bow and studying it. He pulled her into a hug. At first she was tense, but relaxed slowly and hugged him back.

* * *

**Please review.**

**Love,**

**Kaylie**


	5. Chapter 5: Pieces of the Past

**I DO NOT own Avengers or Marvel!**

* * *

"Nat, this is a bad idea," Clint whispered.

"Come on, this could be fun," she whispered smiling.

They were hiding behind crates with their backs pressed against a cement wall. It was just another mission. Get in, get out and don't die. No one really knew what was going on in this warehouse. The people who were running this operation were good, but not good enough. There were only fifty men guarding the operation and Natasha couldn't help laughing at their stupid mistake.

"On my count," Natasha whispered removing the safety from her gun. He nodded at her and got ready to fire an arrow. "One, two, three."

They stood and turned at the same time. They already had twenty people dead before the one that were still alive figured out what was going on. It only took a few more minutes until the rest were lying on the floor with bullet holes in their heads or an arrow sticking out of their bodies. "Well, that went well," Natasha breathed.

"Well, look who it is," a familiar voice said. "Hello, Miss Romanoff."

The voice caused her blood to run cold. It was one of _them._ Clint could see that by the way the color drained from her face. He watched her grip tighten around the gun in her hand.

"Adamovich," Natasha hissed turning around.

"I can see that you've grown into quite the little assassin," the man said nearing Natasha. He ran his fingers down her cheeks and she pulled away, feeling goose bumps run across her skin. "Last I heard you were working for SHIELD now. What a waste of the training you received."

"I would call that torture and neglect," Clint cut in.

"Who asked you?" the man asked.

When the man wasn't paying attention, she pulled a dagger off of her belt. He turned back toward her and stroked her face some more. "Beautiful," he muttered. Smiling, Natasha sent the dagger into his heart and twisted it. He fell backwards and Natasha started to walk away.

"Nat," Clint said, pulling her dagger out of the dead man's chest. He wiped it off on his pants and shoved it into his back pocket.

"Blow this place up," she demanded. Not even turning to look at him, she continued walking.

"Nat," he said again.

"I don't want to talk about it," she barked pushing her way out of the warehouse.

Sighing, Clint shot an arrow at one of the crate that was marked 'explosive' and ran out of the warehouse. Once he was about a hundred yards away, he pressed the button on his bow and the building came crashing down on top of itself.

"Barton, get to checkpoint, Widow's already here," Coulson said into his earpiece.

"I've gotta make one quick stop," he said, noticing a little bakery around the corner.

"Make it quick," Coulson said cutting off the connection. He probably knew there was no point in arguing with his agent.

Clint pushed open the door to the bakery and a bell chimed. The woman standing behind the counter smiled at him. clearly not disturbed by the fact that he was in his uniform and was holding weapons. He shot a smile back to her and walked over to the counter.

"One skinny vanilla latte with whipped cream, two black coffees and I'll take a dozen chocolate chip scones," he ordered.

He paid and took the drink holder holding the coffees and the box with the pastries. The lady thanked him and he exited the small bakery. Clint took his time making his way to checkpoint knowing it was pissing both Natasha and Coulson off.

"You made a coffee stop?" Natasha asked disbelieving.

"A skinny vanilla latte for the Widow," he said, ignoring the glare she was shooting at him. She took the coffee, but she continued to glare at him. "You're welcome." He then walked over to Coulson who was smiling at him amused. "And a black coffee for the best handler in the world."

"Thanks, Barton," Coulson chuckled, taking the cup.

Clint sat down next to Natasha on the bench and handed her the box of scones. She opened the lid and took one out before passing the box to Coulson. Clint sipped on his own coffee while Natasha curled up in a blanket and placed her head on his shoulder.

Clint watched his partner nibble on the scone in her hand obviously thankful for food that didn't come out of the Helicarrier cafeteria.

* * *

"Barton, I'm sending you to the desert," Coulson announced walking into his room.

Clint sat up rubbing his eyes. It was barely five o'clock in the morning and the sun hadn't quite risen yet. He threw his legs over the side of his bed and stood up.

"Why?" He yawned bending over to pick up a shirt.

"There's a hammer stuck in the dirt," Coulson said seriously.

Clint raised an eyebrow at his handler as he handed him a folder.

"Wheels up in a half an hour," Coulson said. "Do _not_ be late."

"What about Nat," Clint asked.

Coulson turned around to walk out the door. 'This is just for you, the Widow of her own mission to deal with and hers is going to require more… patience."

"I'm guessing she'll tell you when she sees you next," Coulson said leaving the room.

About ten minutes later, he could hear Natasha scream something in Russian.

"Vy shutite menya, ya ne budu pretendovat' na rabotu dlya etogo egoisticheskogo idiot tol'ko potomu, chto on mozhet predstavlyat' ugrozu . YA ubival lyudey , kak on!"

**(You have got to be kidding me, I am NOT going to pretend to work for that egotistical idiot just because he could be a threat. I've killed men like him!)**

Clint chuckled to himself and continued shoving clothes into his suitcase. He waited for her to come storming into his room and when she did he didn't even have to acknowledge she was there before she started yelling at him.

"They want me to go spy on Tony Stark!" She screamed angrily. He looked up at her and saw her in a black and white graphic tank-top, jeans and her lace up boots.

"That idiot who revealed he was Iron Man to everyone," he asked zipping his duffle bag.

She groaned frustrated and threw herself back onto his unmade bed.

"Looks like we are going to be apart for your unofficial birthday," Clint said throwing his bag over his shoulder.

"Did you hack the database again?" she asked lifting her head to look at him.

"Come on, I'll help you pack."

"I don't want to," she whined.

"Tough nuggets," he said, dragging her out of his room.

"Did you just say tough nuggets?" she asked as he punched in the code and the door to her room slid open.

He didn't reply instead walked over to her closet and pulling her duffle bag off of the top shelf. Clint tossed the bag on the bed next to Natasha and started putting clothes into her bag for her. She rolled her eyes and pulled the wadded up clothes out of the bag and repacking clothes that she would actually need.

"I'm going to be his new assistant not a couch potato," she chuckled folding a nice button up shirt.

"So that means you're going to have to dress like a girl," Clint laughed.

"I'm a girl, therefore am highly capable of dressing and acting like a girl," Natasha said mater of factly.

"I know you are, but do you? Hell no," Clint said sitting on her bed.

"Oh really," she asked. "If I remember correctly, our last mission involved a nice gala and a dress."

"Yes it did, but it took Phil an hour to get you into it and he had to bribe you with a bottle of vodka."

"I wore the dress."

"I know," Clint smiled. "You looked sexy."

"seksistskiye svin'I," she muttered.

**(sexist pig)**

"It was a compliment, Nat."

She rolled her eyes and zipped the bag.

"Phil told me you had a mission, too. What are you doing?"

"I have to guard a hammer stuck in the dirt," Clint said.

"Is that some kind of joke?"

"I wish," Clint said following her out of the room.

"Wanna trade?" she asked hopefully.

"I don't think I could pass as an assistant. I'm guessing they want it to be as discreet as possible and no one suspects that a tiny teenage girl knows how to kill a man without him even knowing."

"I'm not that small."

"Yeah, honey, you are," Coulson said meeting them at the hangar.

"I'll have you know that I broke the one hundred pound mark," she said proudly.

"Nat, I broke that when I was twelve."

"Well, sorry," she scoffed stepping into the jet.

Clint chuckled rolling his eyes and boarded behind her.

* * *

**Review.**

**Kisses,**

**Kaylie**


	6. Chapter 6: Spitting Blood

**So, some of the dialouge won't be right in the next couple of chapters. **

**I DO NOT own Avengers or Marvel!**

* * *

Natasha and Clint were sitting in the jet watching the tablet in Natasha's hand. It was the footage from Stark's meeting with the department of defenses. He obviously wasn't taking any of it seriously. It seemed as if he was having a conversation with Pepper Potts.

"This is going to be a very difficult mission," Coulson said removing the tablet from Natasha's grasp.

"It's going to be difficult not to put a bullet through his head," Natasha scoffed.

"Keep it under control, Romanoff," Coulson warned.

"He's so full of himself and he obviously is a threat to not only his own well being, but anyone who gets close to him. I for one don't want to be caught in the cross fire of whatever government agency decides to put an end to it."

"Nat, calm down," Clint said.

Sighing, Natasha squirmed in her spot and played with the edge of the bench. Clint rubbed her back knowing just how hard she was fighting the urge to scream.

"Widow, we need you to do this for us and it is very important that you cooperate," Coulson said.

"Why me?"

"Well for one you are a girl and it's hard to come by those in SHIELD and you can protect Stark if anything goes wrong."

She wanted to protest, but remained in her seat. From that moment, she knew this was going to be difficult.

* * *

Natasha walked in and saw two sweaty men killing each other in a boxing ring. She had to stifle a laugh at how bad they were at the whole fighting-self defense thing. The Black Widow expected better from the _great_ IronMan. They both stared at her like every other man she met did.

"What's your name, lady," Stark asked.

"Rushman. Natalie Rushman," Natasha said blankly.

"Front and center," Stark said.

"Absolutely not," Ms. Potts said.

"If it pleases the court, which it does, it will happen," Stark said.

"It's okay," she said putting down the notebook and walking over to the ring.

"I'm sorry, he's very eccentric," Pepper apologized.

Both men stared at her and she did her best to fight the urge to deck the guy. Stark left the ring having Happy give her a 'lesson.' Natasha didn't pay attention to the 'rules' Happy was listing off. She was too busy trying to listen to the conversation going on between Tony and Pepper.

"Have you ever boxed before?"

"Yes. Yes, I have," she smiled.

Happy proceeded to name off a few things that were probably sexist; Natasha didn't really understand any of the references he made that he probably believed were funny.

"How do you spell your name, Natalie," Tony asked.

"R-U-S-H-M-A-N," she said. She assumed he was probably Googling her cover name. Coulson spent six hours creating a believable background.

Happy stuck his hand into her face and she grabbed it twisting it. When she heard a crack and used his hand for leverage to hoist her body up and wrap her legs around his neck. The swift movement sent Happy to the padded ground with a loud thud that startled Pepper.

"Now that's what I'm talking about," Tony shouted clearly amused.

"Way to be discreet, _Natalie_," Coulson grumbled into her Comm.

Natasha rolled her eyes as Happy made some lame excuse and Tony teased him. She picked up the notebook and slipped her heels back on.

"What are ya here for," Stark asked.

"I need your impression," she said.

Stark started rambling about something she assembled was sexual.

"I meant your fingerprint."

He nodded and put his fingerprint on the piece of paper. Natasha closed the book with a loud slam.

"Will that be all, Mr. Stark," she asked sweetly.

"Yes, thank you, Ms. Rushman," Pepper cut in.

She couldn't help but smile when she heard Stark say that he wanted one. Like a mother, Pepper denied the request.

Natasha looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. She had been dragged to some car race and again dressed nicely. She wore a red form fitting dress that revealed her lacey bra.

Sighing, she pushed away from the counter and strutted out the door.

"Mr. Stark," she greeted meeting him at the entrance. "How was your flight?"

"It was excellent," he said taking a drink form a waiter.

"We have a photographer over there if you don't mind," she said removing the drink from his hand.

"What's next?" Stark asked. Before she could reply, he spoke again. "You look fantastic, by the way."

"Thank you," she smiled.

Stark mumbled something unintelligible.

"You have a 9:30 dinner," she said walking away.

Natasha kept herself 'busy' around the bar. She pulled him away from his conversation with Justin Hammer. That man was almost as egotistical as egotistical as Stark himself, maybe more.

"Mr. Stark, your corner table is ready," she announced.

* * *

"Natalie," Pepper called urgently. "Natalie."

"Yes, Ms. Potts," she asked.

"Did you know about this," she demanded looking at the TV.

"I didn't," she stated lying. Of course she knew about it, she knew everything that went on with Stark. Including the fact he was dying slowly and painfully.

"This cannot happen," Pepper said.

"I understand. What can I do, Ms. Potts?"

"Get me Happy, I need Happy," she panicked.

Natasha ran around the bar frantically searching. When she found him, he had a glass of Scotch in his hand and he was trying to hit on two girls.

"Excuse me ladies," Natasha said ripping the cup out of his hand, knocking it back and dragging him by his collar to Pepper.

* * *

Natasha watched in horror as a man with greasy hair walked onto the track. His orange suit began to melt away from his body revealing what looked like and arc reactor and weird shocky-whippy things. The man hit what used to be the Arby's car with his crude weapon and it sliced in half. Natasha had seen plenty of weapons, made some too, but this was foreign to her. Then, Stark's car came whirling around the turn and his was the next to be sliced in half and flipped. Natasha watched helplessly as Tony squirmed out of his decapitated car and run away quickly.

An explosion rocked the area and Natasha witnessed Happy crash the car into the man. It seemed like Pepper and Tony were having a heated argument when the door was sliced in half and Happy proceeded to his the villain with his car multiple times. Another fight broke out between Iron Man and the stranger, eventually, the fight simmered out and the psycho was dragged off the track spitting blood. This was going to be more difficult that she thought.

* * *

**Please Review!**

**Kisses,**

**Kaylie**


	7. Chapter 7: Donuts

**I DO NOT own Avengers of Marvel!**

* * *

Natasha had been sitting with Pepper trying to clean up Tony's mess. All she wanted to do was go back to the SHIELD base she was staying on and video chat Clint. Obviously that wasn't happening anytime soon.

Roady walked in the door obviously beyond pissed off. He stormed down the stairs and Natasha returned to work.

"Natalie, you can go home if you would like. It's getting late," Pepper smiled.

"Thank you, Ms. Potts," she smiled back standing.

Home, she didn't have a home. She had never had a home before.

* * *

The night of Stark's party. Natasha strutted into his room and she could see the poison spreading through his veins. It was worse than SHIELD had told her, he was closer to dying. It was obvious the toxins were spreading to his organs causing them to fail. They were running out of time.

"Do you know which watch you would like to wear tonight, Mr. Stark," she asked sweetly. She hated the dress she was wearing and the shoes were unbearable.

"I'll give 'em a look," he said turning around. "I should cancel the party."

"Probably."

"Ill timing," Tony said with terror branding his face.

"Inappropriate," she stated.

She handed him the drink she was carrying and the box of watched. He sat down in the arm chair and she sat on the arm and proceeded to smear ointment on the cut above his eye.

"You know, it's hard to get a reading on you," Stark stated. "Where are you from?"  
"Legal," she said coolly.

"Can I ask you a question? Hypothetically."

Natasha nodded.

"If say it was your last birthday party, what would you do?"

"Whatever I wanted to do with whoever I wanted to do it with," she smiled thinking about her last unofficial birthday she had spent with Clint. He bought her a stuffed animal as a joke and attempted to make her a cake –notice attempted.

She stood up and exited the room.

* * *

Natasha watched as a drunken Tony Stark in his suit fall off the stage. She had to laugh when Pepper attempted to intervene. It didn't work. He announced an after party and then accidently blew out a glass wall by the stairs.

"This isn't going to end well," Natasha muttered.

"I'm only going to say this once," Roady demanded. "Get out!"

And then a stupid masculinity battle broke out between the two iron clad men at the party.

"Natalie," Pepper called obviously pissed.

"Yes, Ms. Potts," she asked.

"Don't 'Ms. Potts' me," she yelled. "Ever since you got here, he's been out of control."

Before Natasha could fire back with a snotty comment, Roady and Stark came crashing through the ceiling. Both woman screamed as they were flung backward.

"Fury, I'm going to need back up," Natasha said into her comm.

"Already on its way," he replied.

Natasha ripped her shoes off of her feet and sprinted away from what used to be Stark's mansion. Now it was a pile of stone and shards of glass.

* * *

Natasha rolled her eyes when she noticed Tony lounging in the large donut on top of the shop. She marched in after Fury and Stark.

"I've secured the premises, but I don't think we should hold it for much longer," Natasha said walking to the table. She was in her cat-suit now thankful for a pair of pants and an easy place to put a gun.

"You are so fired," Stark mumbled.

'That's not up to you," she stated sitting down next to the director.

"Stark, I'd like you to meet Agent Romanoff."

"I have a feeling you aren't from legal," Stark said.

"I'm a SHIELD shadow, I've been assigned to monitor you by Director Fury," she said.

"I suggest you apologize."

Natasha scoffed crossing her arms over her chest.

"You've been a very busy man, Tony. Making your girl the CEO of you company, giving away all your stuff and giving you suit to you buddy."

"Hey, he took the suit."

"Is that possible," Fury asked Natasha clearly well aware of the answer.

"According to the Stark's security database, there a series of redundancies to prevent unauthorized personnel from even nearing the suits," she stated smirking.

"What do you want from me," Tony asked watching Natasha walk away

"What do _I_ want from _you,"_ Fury scoffed. "What do you want from us? Believe it or not, I've got bigger problems than you in the southwest region alone."

Tony could hear the clomp of Natasha's shoes nearing.

"Hit him," Fury demanded sitting back.

Natasha injected something in the side of his neck.

"It's not a cure, but it's a temporary fix to mask the symptoms."

* * *

"I lost both the kids in the divorce," Stark chuckled.

Natasha rolled her eyes. Stark continued to push her buttons.

"Possis habere potero vel supellectili vestra domi collegerat," Natasha said.

"What does that mean," Tony asked.

"You can drive your stuff home or I can have it collected," she barked slamming the door.

"Keep clam, Widow," Fury said into the comm.

"He's going to blow my cover," she grumbled.

"I need you at the expo tonight, Widow."

"Just perfect."

"Cut the sarcasm."

Natasha rolled her eyes disconnecting communication.

* * *

**Review! **

**Love,**

**Kaylie:)**


	8. Chapter 8: Crude Weapons

**I DO NOT own Avengers!**

* * *

"This cannot be good," Pepper whispered to Natasha.

That's when Roady rose from the floor and surprised everyone with the fact he was now working with Justin Hammer. Then, Tony showed up and everything went straight to hell. Roady lost control of his suit and the glass ceiling shattered.

"Come on," Natasha said leading Pepper out of the audience.

"He's locked us out of the mainframe," a Hammer tech said.

"Whose locked you out of the mainframe," Pepper demanded.

"I have this under control," Justin lied.

"Oh, do you now," Pepper scoffed.

"Yes I do," he lied again.

Fed up, Natasha grabbed his arm and twisted behind his back. One more movement and his arm would break.

"Tell me who's behind this," Natasha demanded. "Who's behind this?!"

"Ivan. Ivan Vanko," he cried wincing as she pushed him harder against the control panel. **(Do ****_not_**** make that dirty.)**

"Where is he," she barked."

"Hammer Enterprises," he screeched with pain dripping out of his mouth.

Natasha released him and sprinted away.

"Get in the car, drive me to Hammer's facility," she demanded approaching Happy.

"I'm not taking you anywhere," he replied crossing his arms.

"Fine, I'll drive," Natasha stated.

"No, get in the car, I'm driving."

Natasha climbed into the backseat smirking.

"When we get there, I need you to watch the perimeter," she said unzipping her dress. Happy's eyes wandered to the backseat and the car swerved.

"Watch the road," she said lying down.

The car pulled into the parking lot and Natasha jumped out in her cat-suit before the car even stopped. Happy climbed out of the car by the time Natasha was already trying to override the security system.

"Stay in the car," she barked.

"I'm not staying in the car."

"I said in the car."

"What are you wearing?" He asked. She could feel his eyes roaming her body. "I'm not letting you go in there alone."

"Wanna help, keep the car running," she said pulling the door open.

The second the door swung open, alarms echoed through the seemingly vacant hallways. Immediately, the hallway filled with men with hands that could easily wrap around her neck. Happy took the first man. Natasha slid on the slick tiled floor and threw two spider bites toward a security guard sending him to the ground writhing with electricity. Happy was still 'boxing' the first guy. Using a janitor cart as leverage, she vaulted herself feet first into a man's chest. She could feel his ribs cracking beneath her feet. The impact disabled him. Sliding under a man's legs, she snapped him knee then used him as a support to take out another man with her famous thigh choke. Two men were easily disoriented with a blast from a smoke bomb. From there she took out three men using their own strength, a cord and a baton she removed from a guard's possession. Then, she did another thigh choke to remove pepper spray from his grasp. She had to laugh at the pettiness of his weapon choice, was he trying to insult her? The Black Widow could not be taken out with a can of pepper spray. She sprayed the can of pepper spray into the face of the last guard without even giving him a second glance. Smirking, she strutted down the hallway. Panting, she kicked the door in only to find Vanko gone.

"He's gone," she wheezed lowering her gun.

Immediately, she set to work trying to reboot Roady's suit.

"Got your best friend back," she said establishing communication with Stark.

"Thank you, Agent Romanoff," he replied.

"Nice chest piece, your vitals all appear to be reacting well."

"For the moment, I'm not dying," Tony said.

"Wait you were dying?" Pepper cut in.

A small argument broke out between them.

"Hey, um, save it for the honeymoon. Tony, looks like the fights coming to you," Natasha said.

Tony made a few more snotty remarks and then cut communication. Sighing, Natasha sat back in her chair.

"I need a raise," she muttered rubbing her forehead.

"I'm guessing you are not from legal," Happy said.

"Nope and I'm not twenty-four either," she said.

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen," she sighed standing up. "If you will excuse me, I have some business to attend to.

* * *

"How's the desert," Natasha asked.

She had gotten back from her solo mission the night prior. Now, she was video chatting Clint.

"Nothing's happened except for a bunch of men crushing their egos," Clint smirked.

"Were you one of the men crushing their egos?" Natasha asked knowingly.

"Coulson wouldn't even let me near the stupid hammer," Clint fake pouted. "How was your mission?"

"Not what I expected," she admitted running a hand through her ratty hair.

"How so?"

"I mean, he was just as egotistical and pigheaded as I suspected, but he's pretty smart –I'll give him that –and he actually does have a heart even if the man's not the most sensitive."

"He didn't get you killed," Clint said.

Natasha shook her head giving Clint the slightest hint of a smile. An alarm sounded on Clint's side and frantic calls could be heard.

"Gotta go," Clint said slamming his laptop shut.

"We need eyes up high with a gun," Coulson said into the comm.

"On it," Clint replied running to the weapon room. Hesitatingly, he reached for the machine gun, and then thought better of it. Clint reached for his bow quickly, then sprinted out into the rain. He rose high into the air, but the height didn't bother him.

"Barton," Coulson said into the comm. "Talk to me."

"Want me to take him out, sir?" He asked aiming. "Or are you sending in more guys for him to beat up?"

"I'll let you know," Coulson said clearly not amused.

Clint could see two men fly through the paper like walls of the command center into the mud. Clint struggled to keep lock on his mark.

Then, his mark too out the last agent pursuing him. Wiping his mouth, he walked back into the temporary shelter.

"Better call it Coulson," Clint said. "I'm starting to root for this guy."

Clint held his aim. "Last chance, Sir."

"Wait, I want to see this," Coulson said walking onto the observation deck.

Clint watched the man's smile fade as he found the he –like all of the others –failed to remove the crude weapon from the pile of sand. Clint watched the man cry out in despair.

"Alright, shows over," Coulson said. "Round him up."

Clint sighed withdrawing aim and began to notice just how cold it really was out and the fact that he was soaked to the bone.

* * *

Clint dragged himself through the dark hallways of the SHIELD Helicarrier. Despite the fact that it was long past midnight and all normal people would be sleeping, there were still people running through the Helicarrier. Clint just wanted to sleep, it had been almost two weeks since he had been in his own bed.

In a sleep deprived stupor he typed in the code and walked into his room. There he saw the unmistakable form of his partner curled up in his bed. The closer he got, the more he could distinguish the sound of her sobs and the shuttering of her tiny body.

"Natasha," he asked creeping closer to his bed.

She sat up pushing the tears out of her face.

"What," she rasped trying to conceal the tears on her face.

"What happened" he asked.

"Nothing," she lied.

"Don't lie to me," he said.

"It was just another.. dream," she said.

"Wanna talk about it," he asked already aware of the answer.

Like usual, she didn't want to talk about it.

* * *

**Hope you liked it.**

**Love,**

**Kaylie**


	9. Chapter 9: Captive

**So, here is chapter 9. I'm super sorry it's been awhile since I've updated, I've kinda been on a trip with a bunch of my friends. Also, I've rewrittent this chapter like six times because I didn't like the turnout. **

**Warning: If you are super timid or squeemish, do not read this chapter.**

**I DO NOT own the Avengers or Marvel.**

* * *

It was just supposed to be an easy mission. Get in, blow the place up and get out. Natasha wasn't sure what happened, but now they were locked in some cell in an abandoned warehouse that was presumed vacant by normal civilization. But there were thousands of men guarding the operation and not even the Black Widow and Hawkeye could take all of the men out together. They didn't even put up much of a fight compared to their opponents. They struggled for awhile and then it was over. Natasha blacked out and when her eyes pulled open again, she was in nothing more than her very revealing bra and underwear. Clint and her were bound at their feet and hands. They were propped against each other and she could feel his bare skin pressed against her back.

"Clint," she groaned.

"Nat, are you okay?" He asked concern dripping into his voice.

"Yeah," she lied. She could feel every inch of her body screaming out in pain. By the looks of the gigantic bruise that had claimed her left side, a few ribs were broken. And to top it off, her leg was bent at an odd angle and hurt the most out of everything. There were other insignificant bruises and cuts on her body and Natasha was sure her lips were busted, but that meant nothing to her.

"What's the damage?" Clint asked.

"Nothing big, few broken ribs and a broken leg," Natasha coughed.

Clint could feel her shivering against his back and guessed by the sound of her labored breaths that she needed medical attention sooner rather than later.

"Just hold on a little longer," Clint whispered.

"What makes you think SHIELD is coming for us? Our trackers are in our suits, our comm. links are gone and I'm weaponless."

Clint didn't respond, he didn't get the chance to. A man walked in with a pipe in his hand. There was an evil smirk plastered on his and a lustful gaze in his eyes that he projected on Natasha.

"Beautiful," he whispered stroking her cheek.

"Don't touch me," she hissed pulling away from him.

The man leaned in towards Natasha and smashed his lips against hers. Instinctively, Natasha's foot found his groin and his hand connected with her cheek as he doubled over in pain. The sting on her jaw didn't bother her at all.

"Don't touch her," Clint barked.

"What're you gonna do about it Romeo?" The man taunted.

He recovered from the pain Natasha had inflicted and dragged her away from Clint. She struggled and flailed around trying to get away from him, but she was failing. She knew where this was going and wanted to get away from him. The sharp movements she was making caused pain to scream through her body, but she was desperate. The man slapped her again and she remained still breathing heavily.

Natasha noticed that she was positioned on her back so Clint could see her. Not only was this cruel man taking something from her, he was going to make Clint watch it.

Clint squirmed as did Natasha, but a guard entered the room and dragged him toward the wall. Natasha watched helplessly as Clint was chained to the wall.

For the first time in all four years of knowing her, Clint saw something drain into her eyes that he had rarely seen from Natasha. Fear and this time it wasn't a bad dream. No, this time it was reality and he couldn't do anything about it.

The man removed his clothes hastily and Natasha saw what scared her the most. His erection. Despite what everyone thought, Natasha still hadn't done anything sexual outside of trying to seduce men before killing them. She didn't want it to be like this. Natasha wanted what she had imagined as a child. A nice guy who actually cared about her, not a man who is holding her captive and makes her best friend watch it.

Tears began to form in her eyes and he removed her underwear. By the time she was without any covering at all, Clint could hear her terrified sobs and he shattered.

"Please," Natasha pleaded helplessly.

The man's evil chuckles echoed through the dank cell and it made Clint even angrier. Then, there was a crash that came from above them and a SHIELD swat team burst through the door. Natasha took that moment of confusion to kick the man off of her bare body and scurry away from him quickly. Breathing heavily, she curled into a ball and pressed her back into the wall trying to put as much distance between the man and herself.

Someone removed the man from the room and unchained Clint. Another agent tried to untie Natasha, but she pulled herself further into the corner.

"Nat," Clint said approaching her slowly.

"He was going to take it," Natasha whispered.

"What?" Clint asked confused.

"He was going to take my virginity," she replied quietly.

Clint handed her the clothes Coulson had given him to take to her. He couldn't believe it, he had always thought Natasha used sex as a weapon. It still surprised him that she was as innocent as she was and still held the ability to feel no remorse when she killed a man.

Natasha looked up at him and a look of fear and pain was dancing in her emerald eyes. She launched herself against him and he enveloped her in his arms.

"It was like the Red Room all over again," Natasha sobbed into his shoulder. "He wanted to take the last thing that I still had, he wanted to make me suffer. He was going to have you watch."  
"Sh, it's okay. He's gone now," Clint said pulling her off of his body. "You need to get dressed."

Natasha nodded pulling on the clothes and pushed the tears from her face.

When she was dressed again, Clint lifted her up and she placed her head on his shoulder. He cradled her carefully in his arms and followed what was left of the rescue crew up to the jet. Natasha held onto him as if he was the only thing keeping her alive as the medical team put a cast on her broken leg and gave her medication for the pain. Eventually, her grip loosened and she fell asleep.

* * *

Natasha awoke to the feeling of footsteps echo through her body vaguely. She soon realized that it was not her own footsteps, but someone else's. The pattern was familiar to her, but in her sleep-dazed mind, she couldn't determine who they belonged to. Nor could she dig far enough into her hazy mind to remember exactly what had happened the night before. Slowly, her eyes pulled open and strained to focus on anything. Whoever was carrying her noticed that she was stirring and shifted her into a less painful position.

"How you feeling," a voice asked.

She groaned loudly and pressed her face into the chest of whoever was holding her. The scent was familiar, but the canon going off in her head was keeping her from placing it. Then, her eyes focused and landed on those grey eyes.

"Clint," she groaned. "I feel like shit."

"Considering you have six broken ribs and a broken leg, I'd say that's pretty good," he said trying not to bring up the other incidents of the failed mission they had just returned from.

Then, the jumbled pieces of recollection became clearer and she remembered everything. Clint could tell by the look that spread across her face that Natasha had put the pieces together.

"How long am I going to get stuck with a shrink," Natasha asked blankly.

"At least six weeks," Phil replied. Natasha hadn't noticed him walking next to Clint until that moment.

"Why?" Natasha asked already well aware of the answer.

"Because you were almost raped," Fury said.

"Great," Natasha said. "You're here too."

"Watch it, Romanoff," Fury said.

"What if I refuse to go to the shrink?" Natasha asked crossing her arms.

"That's not an option," Coulson said. "'Cause Clint's in charge of getting you there."

Natasha caught Clint's grin out of the corner of her eye and she grumbled something in Russian.

* * *

**Please review!**

**Love,**

**Kaylie :)**


	10. Chapter 10: Special

**Here is my newest chapter. Hope you enjoy!**

**I DO NOT own Marvel or the Avengers or anything at all!**

* * *

It had been over a month since the _incident _and Natasha still hadn't said a word to anyone about it. Her sessions with the shrink were pointless, all she did was sit on the couch and play with a pillow or anything to keep her distracted. The mousy man asked her questions and she didn't say anything in response. Natasha didn't want him to know that weakness that the man found in the dark cell, she didn't want anyone to know. Not even Clint. Unfortunately, he did know and she couldn't deny that.

However, he had not brought up the subject. Natasha suspected that Clint wanted her to bring it up. He should've known that she would never initiate that specific conversation or anything that related to emotion/relationships.

Like every night the new nightmares haunted her, she ended up in the gym, not in Clint's room. This was different than the other dreams; this was too personal for even Clint to understand. Natasha had sweat dripping off of her face and the feeling of exhaustion was swelling in her body. There were tears mixing with the sweat on her face as she continued to destroy a punching bag. Her knuckles were cracked and bleeding from the lack of wrapping or gloves. Clint –who had gone unnoticed – had his back pressed against the wall and watched her carefully. He knew very well what this was about.

Natasha stopped pounding the punching bag and stood still.

"I know you're standing there, Clint," she said startling Clint. Her voice was rough from the tears and barely above a whisper. "What do you want?"

"Why are you avoiding me?" He asked timidly.

"Because you know," she barked turning to face him.

"So what if I know?!" Clint demanded throwing up his hands. "We're partners, you know everything about me. Why do I have to find out about stuff like this when someone's using it against you?"

"I don't know," she whispered sheepishly.

"Nat, why are you so embarrassed about this?" Clint asked.

"Because I wanted it to be special," she admitted looking at him in the eye. "It was part of some stupid fantasy I had. Escaping this whole thing and just being normal."

"There is nothing normal about anyone who works here," Clint said.

"It was just something I had always held onto when _they_ were breaking me."

"Fantasies like that are weaknesses," Clint reminded.

"That was the first weakness someone other than you discovered," Natasha whispered.

It was silent for awhile and it made Natasha feel even more embarrassed.

"Why can't it be special?" Clint asked.

Natasha eyed him suspiciously. The look on his face was familiar to her, he was formulating a plan.

"Dare I ask what it is you mean by that," Natasha asked pinching the bridge of her nose.

* * *

That's why they were currently in her room –obviously not thinking –doing things Natasha never thought she would do with her partner. He was pressed against her bare body and he was just as bare as she was.

"This is a ….terrible idea," Natasha moaned, her voice catching in her throat.

"Stop thinking," Clint said removing his mouth from her neck.

"If this all goes down hill, I'm blaming you," Natasha gasped.

"Whatever you say," Clint replied. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

She nodded her head silently. Gently, he entered her and an unfamiliar pain shot through her body. Being the Black Widow, she tried her best to hide how much it hurt when she felt something shatter inside of her. Clint thrust into her slowly at first and then began to pick up the pace. He cummed. She cummed. He collapsed on the bed next to her breathlessly. Eventually, Clint fell asleep. Natasha was left awake, wandering, Analyzing everything, thinking of the consequences.

"What have I done," she whispered to herself.

The thought haunted her the entire night. She had single handedly destroyed every boundary she had set for herself almost five years four years ago. It wasn't until the sun was beginning to light up the sky that sleep finally overtook Natasha. Slowly, her eyes closed and she entered into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

When Natasha awoke hours later, Clint was no longer there. Neither were his clothes. It seemed as if maybe the previous night never happened and things were still normal. Then, that smell wafted toward her nose. That smell that was strictly his. It was nothing Natasha could describe past the fact that it was his and that it was home for her. Clint was her home, despite how cliché that sounded.

Sighing, Natasha threw the covers off her body that was still glistening with sweat and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She trudged across the carpet and flung open the closet door. Too tired to care what she put on –not that she cared anyway –Natasha pulled on a pair of ripped up jeans and a t-shirt that was wadded up on the floor. She didn't care that it was several sizes too big, nor did she notice the fact that it belonged to Clint.

Yawning, Natasha dragged her feet toward the cafeteria. She was desperate for caffeine even if it came from coffee that had the consistency of jell-o. When she arrived in the cafeteria, Natasha made a beeline for the coffee maker. She poured herself a mug and had it burning its way down her throat before she noticed Clint was standing less than five feet away from her with his eyes trained on her. Pouring herself another mug, Natasha turned so she was leaning up against the counter, that's when she noticed him.

"Good morning," he said cheerfully.

"What's so great about it," Natasha grumbled. Silently, they agreed never to bring up what happened the previous night,

"Still not a morning person," Clint chuckled.

"I've been your partner for almost four years now, don't you think you should know that I never have and never will be a morning person," Natasha asked pouring what was left of her coffee into her mouth and refilling the mug.

"Don't you think you should have something real for breakfast?"

"Nope," Natasha said setting down her mug. Clint watched as she started to walk away.

"Nat," he said catching her attention. She turned to face him with a blank expression on her face. "Nice shirt," he smiled.

Confused, Natasha looked down at her shirt and smiled when she saw what it was his after all.

"Hope you no that you're not getting it back," Natasha smirked turning on her heel.

Clint chuckled and then noticed that every agent that was in the cafeteria was watching them expectantly.

"What," he asked. "Can't a guy talk to his partner?"

Everyone turned back to whatever it was they were doing. Clint rubbed his neck praying silently to whatever diety would listen that his stupid suggestion the night prior didn't destroy everything.

* * *

**That chapter was really hard to write. I don't really know why it was though. Maybe it's 'cause I'm not exactly good at writing sex scenes. I'm going on a trip so don't count on updates until Sunday at the earliest. Most likely Monday will be my next update. The next chapter will be better, I hope. Please review! I'm begging you and I don't beg often. **

**Love,**

**Kaylie :)**


	11. Chapter 11: Dresses and Dances

**I thought I should post one more chapter before I left, so here it is.**

**I DO NOT own Avengers or Marvel!**

* * *

Natasha trudged through the hallways of the Helicarrier with a blank look on her face. Phil had just handed her another mission folder, but she hadn't bothered to open it. Instead, she was searching for Clint. They had just gotten back from an observation mission from some middle of no where city in middle of no where Europe. Natasha hadn't slept in days and she just wanted to curl up in a ball and sleep. But apparently SHIELD had different ideas for them.

She found him in the gym –what a shocker –pounding some fight dummies' face in. For a few minutes, Natasha watched silently contemplating whether or not to disturb him. It surprised her that he hadn't heard her yet, he _always_ heard her. No one could sneak up on him, not even the great Black Widow.

"What do you want," he breathed heavily with sweat dripping off of his face.

"We have a new mission," she said.

"Where?" He asked sitting down next to her on the bench.

"Coulson said it was in Rome," she said handing him the folder.

"Have you looked at it yet?"

"No, I tried to, but my vision is blurred with sleep deprivation," she yawned.

He chuckled silently and opened the folder.

"What's the damage," she asked looking over his shoulder.

"Just another greedy man trying to get funding for an illegal project."

"Fun," she yawned loudly. Clint handed her the folder and she skimmed through the paragraphs without interest. "Oh, Fury has lost his mind if he thinks I'm going to wear a dress."

"Calm down, I have to wear a penguin suit," Clint said.

"Wear do they expect me to stash a gun if I'm in a dress?"

"You'd probably kill me if I told you."

"Don't go there, Barton," she hissed.

Clint held his hands up chuckling which earned a glare from Natasha. Sighing, she stood up and marched out of the gym muttering something in Russian that Clint assumed was not ladylike.

Natasha stormed into her room and flopped down on the bed face first. Almost immediately, she was asleep.

* * *

They arrived to the hotel a few hours later and the two dragged their stuff into the building. When they got to their room, there was another mission file waiting on the desk in the main room of their suit. Groaning, Natasha picked it up and skimmed it before flopping onto the bed. Natasha wasn't pleased to find that there was only a single king sized bed in the room.

"Looks like we're sharing," she said.

Clint groaned loudly as he dropped onto the bed next to his partner.

"We need to get ready for the gala thingy tonight," Natasha said.

"I don't want to get up," Clint whined.

"Well that sucks," Natasha said grabbing his hand and attempting to pull him off the bed.

"You do know that we aren't really married so you can't boss me around."

"Have I ever needed marriage as an excuse to boss people around?" Natasha scoffed.

"Nope," Clint said.

Natasha walked over to the pile of luggage on the floor and unzipped the drycleaners bag she had thrown carelessly on the top. The contents of the bag disgusted her and she had to keep herself from destroying it right there. She tossed the dress on the bed and pulled her shirt off over her head. Clint –who seemed unfazed by his partner stripping in front of him –began putting on his own suit. He didn't even blink when Natasha pulled off her bra.

"Can you zip me up," she asked holding the dress onto her body in the front.

Clint pulled the zipper up her back gently and looked at her helplessly. Smirking, she fixed his tie and turned to look at herself in the mirror. She hated with a burning passion the strapless, floor length, maroon colored dress that SHIELD had picked out for her. In her opinion it was too revealing and would just get in the way if she had to fight.

"I look ridiculous," she said.

"You do not," Clint countered handing her a gun.

Sighing, she placed the gun in the holster that was strapped around her leg.

"You actually look kinda pretty," Clint said.

"What have you been smoking, Barton?"

Clint chuckled a little as he too concealed weapons in his clothing. He extended his arm to Natasha and she took it plastering on a fake smile. They walked silently out into the hallway and waited for the elevator.

"Remember you have to be madly in love, so Widow, if he makes a terrible joke you have to laugh. Not threaten to castrate him," Coulson reminded into the comm.

"Fine," Natasha huffed.

Clint smirked childishly at and she stuck her tongue out at him.

"Grow up you two," Coulson said over the comm.

"I'm guessing you got into the security feed," Clint said.

"That would be correct," Coulson said. "Now please don't screw this up, I would like it if Natasha actually lived to see her birthday."

Natasha rolled her eyes as they entered the elevator. The dinner was on the roof of the hotel which housed a nice restaurant. The party itself was being held in the fancy-shmancy ballroom on the first floor. Natasha knew she was practically required to dance with people other than Clint and she wasn't looking forward to it at all. In fact, she was ready to kill any man who tried to cop a feel.

"Nat, relax," Clint whispered into her ear.

A ding echoed through the elevator and the doors of the elevator slid open. The pair stepped onto the roof and Natasha felt every eye –male and female –drop on her body. The women of the room eyed her with hate and she figured if looks could kill, she would've died the second she stepped off the elevator. Every man in the room –including Clint –looked at her lustfully and hungrily.

"Why is everyone looking at me like that," she whispered to Clint uncomfortably.

"Because you look amazing," Clint whispered back.

Natasha rolled her eyes and tried to shed the look of discomfort she figured was probably painted on her face.

* * *

"Just get me one drink, Clint, please. I'm begging you, I can't handle this if I don't have something stronger than lemonade," Natasha pleaded.

"Um, we are in America and last time I checked, you aren't old enough to have anything stronger than lemonade here," Clint said.

"But my cover is twenty-three and married to you," Natasha said desperately.

"Then, why don't you have an ID for you cover?" Clint asked well aware of what the answer was.

"Cause Coulson said he didn't want me drunk on a mission," she said sheepishly.

Clint smirked at her and then ordered her a red wine.

"You know I meant vodka or tequila or something that would actually make a dent in my sobriety, not a girly glass of red wine," Natasha said taking the glass from Clint.

"I know what you wanted," Clint reassured.

Natasha muttered something in Russian and started to sip on the wine.

"Do you have that diamond ring I'm supposed to be wearing?" Natasha asked setting down the empty glass on the table.

"Yeah, here," he said digging into his pocket and producing the ring.

Natasha slid it on and inspected it. Not that she really knew what any of it was, she was aware of the large size of the diamond and the ring of rubies surrounding it.

"I have pretty good taste don't I," Clint joked.

"Amazing," Natasha whispered still admiring it.

"So, we need to decide not, how long have we been married?" Clint asked getting down to business.

"We've been married for almost a year although we've know each other since childhood," Natasha replied.

"Do we have any kids?"

"No, but I'm secretly pregnant," Natasha smiled.

"Then why are you drinking?" Clint asked playing around.

"'Cause no one is watching me," Natasha replied.

"If you haven't noticed, _everyone_ is watching you,"

Natasha rolled her eyes and stood up brushing off the front of her dress. She stuck her hand out toward Clint with a devilish grin spread across her face.

"What?" Clint asked.

"Dancing with me won't kill you," Natasha said smiling innocently.

Carefully, Clint took her hand and they walked onto the dance floor in the middle of the room. Awkwardly, they pressed against each other –they hadn't fully recovered from that night months ago –and moved across the floor slowly. It was no lie they were both good dancers, Natasha had picked it up as a child and dancing was a piece of Clint's past not even Natasha knew. He hadn't told her any of it, in fact. Clint had told her that it wasn't easily and that he had a brother. She also knew that Clint had run away from it, but she wasn't sure what '_it' _was.

"People are staring," Natasha warned.

"Let them stare," Clint smiled pecking her on the lips.

Natasha had to remind herself that this was all for show. The kiss felt nothing and something inside of her felt slightly disappointed.

"We need to stay on track," Natasha reminded through gritted teeth.

She was mad. Not mad at Clint, but mad at herself for feeling something.

"Aye, Captain _Natalie_," Clint said putting emphasis on her cover name.

Natasha glared at him and he chuckled. The song ended and they returned to their seats. At their table was another couple and –thanks to SHIELD –the greedy doctor and his wife.

Clint engaged himself in small talk with the men at the table and Natasha looked around the room discreetly as the other two women at the table began a conversation.

"Hello?" One of the woman said catching Natasha's attention

"Sorry, what did you say?" Natasha said fake smiling.

"I asked how long you've been married to your husband," the woman married to the doctor asked. Natasha examined her carefully. The woman couldn't have been much older than her –far too young to be married to a fifty year old doctor -, had long brown hair that curled at the end, was bony, had piercing blue eyes, the ring on her finger was huge, she wore a long purple dress that Natasha thought was awful and the smile on her lips was obviously fake.

"Almost six months," Natasha said. Clint's arm draped over Natasha easily and she shot him a pleading look. " I'm Natalie," Natasha lied.

"I'm Taylor," the doctor's wife replied.

"And I'm Melanie," the other woman smiled warmly. Melanie had long hair that was dark, her eyes were green –not as bright as Natasha's, -she was skinny, but not so skinny it seemed unhealthy, she looked to be about twenty-five and her husband didn't seem much older. Her dress was a light pink that looked nice against her pale skin and she lacked the wrinkles that the other woman did. Melanie seemed almost warmer and happier.

Natasha followed their conversation slightly, but quickly grew bored with only talking about the newest line from some Italian designer. When the salads were served, Natasha was thankful for an escape from talking about material things.

"So, got any dirt," Natasha whispered to Clint discreetly.

Leaning over, he kissed her cheek then whispered a reply in her ear.

"No, but I did get an invitation for the two of us to attend a charity event his daughter is putting on."

'They have kids?" Natasha asked incredulously.

"No, he does. His daughter is older than you."

Natasha rolled her eyes and started to push the wilted lettuce around the fancy glass plate that was set in front of her. This was not going to be fun.

* * *

**Remember, I will not update often -if at all -for the next couple of days. Please review!**

**Kisses,**

**Kaylie**

**3**


	12. Chapter 12: Nightmares

**I'm finally back and I'm so happy to have returned to civilization. I am also happy to have wifi and good cell service. Gotta love middle of no where Kansas. There was a bright side to that trip thoug, I did get to ****_legally_**** make my own firework show. **

**I DO NOT own Avengers or Marvel!**

* * *

"I can't believe I have to wear a dress again tonight," Natasha grumbled to Clint. His arm was draped over her shoulder as they walked into the convention center together. They were far closer than what Natasha was comfortable with, but she easily stifled her discomfort. The charity event was in California and being the rich people they were –pretending to be –there was no problem to travel internationally.

"You look fine," Clint whispered back eyeing her carefully. The dress she had on was a cocktail dress that lacked the security of straps or sleeves. It was light pink and didn't quite reach her knees. At the end of the bodice, it flared out slightly and a darker pink belt had been wrapped around the seam. Natasha had convinced Coulson to allow her a black leather jacket. And again to her dismay, she wore black pumps on her feet that were making it almost impossible to walk.

"I feel like a girl," Natasha whined.

"You _are_ a girl," Clint replied. "Trust me, I know from personal experience that you, are in fact, a girl."

Natasha elbowed him in the stomach and the quiet laughter stopped. "I thought I made it clear that we would never speak of that again," Natasha growled.

Before Clint could respond, the Doctor approached them smiling.

"It's nice to see you guys again," he greeted shaking hands with Clint. Natasha smiled at his wife who returned it with a snotty glare. Natasha stuck her tongue out making a mocking face and the woman gasped incredulously. Stifling a laugh, Natasha smiled innocently at the doctor as he kissed her hand. However, when his wandering eyes roamed her body hungrily, Natasha had to swallow the desire to lunge at him and break is neck.

"Cool it, Romanoff," Phil said into her ear piece.

Clint led Natasha away from the couple and they faked interest in the pieces of artwork that were in the silent auction. They remained silent for the remainder of the time the silent auction was open. When the dinner was served, Natasha was thankful for the excuse to sit down. Like the night prior, Natasha did not engage herself in conversation, nor did she eat a whole lot. She was surprised by the fact that she was surrounded by people who had enough money in their wallets to feed a whole village and the food they were serving was about as good quality wise as the muck that was served in SHIELD cafeterias.

By the end of the night, Natasha had acquired several new blisters and had met the doctor's daughter who, was in fact, older than her and significantly older than her step mother.

* * *

"This is hopeless," Natasha sighed flopping on the bed. She had shed the dress and replaced it with a pair of oversized sweatpants and one of Clint's t-shirts.

"You don't know that," Clint replied dropping onto the bed next to her. He too had shed his attire and was now wearing his boxers and a t-shirt. This hotel, like the one in Rome, had only one bed.

"Yes I do," Natasha said running a hand through her flaming curls.

"You just have to be patient," Clint said.

Natasha scoffed. "Me, patient. Oh, please," Natasha laughed.

"Just go to sleep, we have breakfast with the doctor and his wife tomorrow morning at their country club," Clint yawned.

"What would I even wear to something like that?" Natasha asked.

"Phil said he would have something sent over from the headquarters that's in Sacramento," Clint replied with his eyes closed.

Rolling her eyes, Natasha reached over to turn off the light. Yawning, she pulled the thick blanket up to her chin and prayed silently that she would –for once –have a peaceful sleep.

* * *

She did. However, Clint did not. With his past, there was no doubts that his dreams were often haunted by demons he had pushed under the rug. Natasha awoke suddenly by the sounds of Clint's screams bouncing off of the walls in the hotel room. She was sure other people had heard them too, but that was the least of her concern. Desperately, Natasha tried to pull Clint away from the nightmare.

"Clint," she said. "Clint, wake up."

He didn't, but continued to thrash around. Natasha shook his body trying to wake him, but sweat was still beading on his body and his face was contorted into an image of fear. Out of ideas, Natasha slapped Clint across the face and his eyes shot open. Next thing Natasha knew, Clint was straddling her and her own dagger was pressed against her throat. Completely unfazed, Natasha remained frozen waiting for him to recognize her.

When he realized it was her, the dagger was left forgotten on the floor and he pulled the small girl to his body burying his face in her curls. At first, Natasha was stiff in his arms, but recovered quickly. She hugged him back softly and rubbed his back until the shaking subsided and he sat there still holding her.

Hours later, they returned their heads to their pillows with their limbs still entangled. Natasha reached for the remote for the TV and turned it on. Clint watched it and she watched him. Slowly, he returned to sleep and she continued to watch him once he had. Clint's expression was soft when he slept undisturbed. There was no sign of his work on his face except for the pale scar just barely missing his left eye. When Clint slept, every worry dissipated from his face and was replaced with a childish innocence. Natasha smiled to herself as she too, lost herself into the darkness of sleep.

* * *

**I'm not exactly happy with the way that chapter turned out, but I don't have any other ideas of how it should've gone, so that's what it is. Please reveiw!**

**With lots of love,**

**Kaylie**

**3**


	13. Chapter 13: Leaving

**I DO NOT own Avengers or Marvel!**

* * *

Natasha eyed the dress on the hanger like it was poisonous. It was simple; a black knew length dress with thick straps and no embellishments. Rolling her eyes, she yanked the hanger off of the closet door and unzipped the dress before tossing it on the bed. She unclasped her bra and tossed it to some unknown place in the room and stepped into the dress muttering something about how it was sexist that girls were practically required to wear dresses.

"Ready to go," Clint asked walking out of the bathroom in a pair of black dress pants and a nice button up shirt.

"Kuda , chert voz'mi, eti uzhasnym bogom obuvi?" She barked.

Smirking, Clint held out his hand and the shoes were dangling by the straps from his fingers. Sticking her tongue out, Natasha ripped them out of his hands and stumbled into the shoes.

"I don't get paid enough," Natasha sighed trying to walk.

Clint grabbed her arm as she started to fall face first toward the carpeted ground. She shot him an irritated look and smoothed out her dress. Again, she tried walking, but Clint ended up wrapping his arm around her.

"I thought the great Black Widow could do anything by herself," Clint teased.

Natasha sent her elbow into his stomach angrily. Doubling over, Clint grunted trying to catch his breath. Natasha smiled devilishly then proceeded to strut away from him without problem.

"And the great Black Widow _can_ do anything," Natasha said innocently walking down the stairs leaving Clint staring at her confused.

* * *

"Thanks for joining us for breakfast," the doctor said rising from his chair. The smile on his face made shivers roll through her entire body. It wasn't that it was fake –every smile he had shot them had been fake –it was definitely a real smile, but it was laced with stone cold evil building in his eyes.

"Thanks for inviting us," Clint said shaking his hand. Natasha could feel him tense against her back and she instinctively ran her hand over the holster strapped to her thigh.

Natasha noticed that Taylor wasn't there, but instead the doctor's daughter sat at the table glaring at Natasha. However, she seemed to be eyeing Clint and shot him an innocent smile anytime he looked at her. The thought of what that girls was thinking was enough to throw Natasha off the edge she had desperately been clinging to, though she didn't know why.

The food was great, but the morning sucked. Clint could feel Natasha tense up anytime anyone said anything to her and noticed how every so often she reached for her gun.

"Natalie, could I show you something," his daughter –Allyson –said smiling menacingly.

"Sure," Natasha said placing her napkin on the table and following her out into the lobby of the country club.

Uneasiness built in Natasha's stomach as she was lead by the older girl into a hallway that was dark and empty.  
"What are –" Natasha asked before she was pressed against the wall with a steak knife pressed against her throat.

"I'm surprised you didn't piece all of this together by yourself," Allyson hissed. "I mean after all, you are one of SHIELD's best agents."

"That's the thing," Natasha spat. "I am one of SHIELD's best agents." Before Allyson could even blink, Natasha wrapped her legs around her waist and shifted so they both went flying toward the floor. The tip of the knife grazed Natasha's shoulder before it skittered out of both girls' reach. She cried out in pain as she reached for her gun. Natasha watched in horror as it slid out of her hands after a swift kick from Allyson.

Both disarmed and desperate, the two girls tackled each other to the ground.

"You know, I've heard about what you've done," Allyson said landing a punch to Natasha's stomach, who in turn grabbed a handful of curly brunette hair and yanked. "I can't believe Clint saved a low-life like you."

"Look who's talking," Natasha hissed blocking a blow that was aimed for her jaw. "A girl who is just as greedy as her father, maybe even more. Did you think you really were going to get away with this," Natasha asked pinning Allyson to the floor.

"I already have," she smirked.

"What?" Natasha asked confused.

"Where's your little boy friend," Allyson asked.

"Clint," Natasha whispered. Quickly, she recovered and turned on her Comm. "Coulson, I need agents in here now."

"Already on it," Coulson said walking into the hallway with several other agents. One of the agents restrained Allyson and Natasha was flying through the country club. She pushed through every door, but found each attempt at finding Clint failing. Finally, she snuck quietly into the men's room.

There she saw Clint bound with duct tape in the corner and the doctor standing in front of him lecturing him. There was a man standing at the door with his back turned to Natasha. Clint saw her and she pressed her finger to her lip as she lifted the hem of her skirt and revealed a dagger strapped to her leg. Slowly, she pulled it out of the holster and crept closer to the large man doing an awful job at keeping watch. Smirking at Clint, she twirled the dagger between her fingers. She wrapped her hand around his mouth to muffle his screams before sending it into his back and twisting it.

Natasha cringed when he hit the ground with a thud, but let out the breath she was holding in when the doctor didn't notice. Silently, she pulled the gun from the dead man's holster and stepped over the puddle of blood that was pooling around him. She clicked the safety off the gun and tightened her grip on the gun. She pressed her finger over the trigger before breathing out.

"You know," Natasha said faking confidence. "You've managed to prove me wrong."

"How so?" The doctor asked turning around to face Natasha with a smug look plastered on his face.

"There _are_ men out there that are as sick as the people who I grew up around."

"Oh,_ Natalia,_" the doctor smiled with venom dripping into his words. Inwardly, Natasha panicked searching for any possible reason he knew the name they called her in Red Room. "You and I both know that not only men can be that cold. I mean, look at you. You work for the good guys now, but does that make you any better than the rest of us?"

"Nat, don't listen to him," Clint said.

She couldn't hear him over the blood pumping in her ears, however, the doctor's words continued to break through her skull. He continued to throw words around coldly and Natasha refused to cower away from him. Her knuckles were white from the way she was holding the gun and Clint was sure she would crush it in her hands at any second. Instead, she surprised not only herself, but the two breathing men in the room by firing the gun. The bullet broke the doctor's flesh between his eyes and he collapsed on the floor next to the dead guard. His blood drained from his body quickly and Natasha waited until she was sure he was dead to run toward Clint. Quickly, she removed the tape from his body ignoring his pleading for her to talk to him.

"Nat," Clint said. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Natasha lied fighting the tears threatening to spill.

Sighing, Clint stood knowing very well that she was lying. Natasha rose to her feet and exited the room quickly. By now, the gash on her arm was dripping blood all over and everything about her was disheveled. Her hair was tangled, her dress was torn, she was barefoot, and she was covered in her own blood. However, she did not look terrified. Instead, she had stifled the fear that was flooding her body and plastered a blank expression on her face.

Without saying anything, Natasha climbed onto a jet that was waiting for her on top of the Sacramento building. She ignored the weird looks she received from agents and pulled her knees to her chest. The medic team tried to stitch up her arm, but she pushed them away threatening them in Russian. Once Clint was on, they took off and a blanket of silence fell over them. Of course Clint tried to talk to her, but she continued staring blankly ahead.

* * *

Hours later, Natasha walked through the hallways of the Helicarrier. She didn't want to deal with what the doctor had said and she didn't want to find out how he knew all of that about her. _No_ _one_ knew that about her, not even Clint or Coulson. When she made it to her room, she immediately set to work. Natasha dug the first aid kit out of her dresser and pulled out what she needed. Silently preparing herself, she sighed before putting the towel in her mouth to stifle the screams.

She had _ex_pertly inserted seven stitches in her arm before her vision started to blur. Natasha shook her head and closed her eyes before starting again. Thirteen stitches later, she was lying on her bed staring at the ceiling. Clint was pounding on the door to her room; she had changed the passcode so no one could get in. There were tears streaming down her cheeks as she thought through her final decision. She was leaving. Leaving Clint, leaving their partnership and most of all, leaving her feelings.

* * *

**Oh, dramatic. Bet you didn't see that one coming, now did ya. To be honest with you guys, I didn't see that coming either. Some times I just surprise myself. Okay, so we are quickly nearing the Avenger part of this story. There will probably be a few more chapters before I begin writing that, but just a heads up. Please review! OMG, I'm super depressed right now, I'm listening to all these sad songs by Taylor Swift and it makes me want to cry. And let me tell you, I do ****_not _****look attractive when I cry. My eyes get really red and my face gets puffy and splotchy and it's just awful. Anyway, thanks for listening (would it be reading my rant?)to my rant.**

**Love,**

**Kaylie 3**


	14. Chapter 14: Bloody Blame

**So, this story is actually going pretty well in my opinion. I've been working pretty hard on this story and I hope you guys can tell. This chapter is super short, but it is also super important. **

**I DO NOT own The Avengers or Marvel!**

* * *

Words, what the hell were they good for. There weren't any intelligent words to describe what he was brewing inside of his body. Clint stood in Natasha's room fuming. He had been looking for her all week and had finally returned to her room. There he found the passcode had been reset and an empty room. The bed had been neatly made, the dresser was empty, the closet was cleaned out, her pictures had been removed from the wall and most of all, she was no where in sight. He caught sight of a picture on her bed and inched closer to investigate. He recognized the picture; it had been taken only a few months earlier on his twenty-first birthday. Natasha and him were both smiling like idiots with drinks in hand. Coulson was standing behind them smiling just as wide. All three were in some rundown bar with party hats on their heads. Natasha was holding a whistle in her hand and was practically sitting on Clint.

Clint turned the picture over in his hand and saw Natasha's fine cursive print on the back. She had written 'my family' sloppily in black ink with a little smiley face beneath it. There was practically steam blowing out of hi ears when he stormed into Phil's office. Coulson's face was blank when he saw Clint. He caught a glimpse of the picture Clint was holding in a death grip in his hand. Phil had been expecting him to show up in his office pissed off. In all honesty, Phil wasn't happy Natasha had asked for reassignment immediately. Despite his doubts, he granted a new assignment on a SHIELD base in Europe.

"I assume you know," Phil said calmly. He too wanted to blow up like Clint and do everything he knew was pointless. However, he also knew that _nothing _would change her mind and keep her here. In all four years he had known her, he had learned that she was just as stubborn as Clint. And that's why Clint was standing in his office ready to kill the next person to cross him.

"How long had she been planning to leave _me,_" Clint demanded.

"Over a month ago," Coulson said. He wasn't going to deny the fact that Natasha had been running from him when she left. Clint knew he was right too; they had slept together over a month ago and _nothing_ had been the same since. Why did he have to come up with that stupid idea? Why did she have to agree to it?

"Where did Natasha go?" Clint asked desperately rubbing his head.

"I've been directed by Agent Romanoff herself to keep that information classified," Phil said pulling an envelope from out of a drawer. "However, Natasha asked me to give this to you."

Clint took it from his handler and silently exited the room. He didn't want to read the letter so it landed with a thud on his nightstand. Clint flopped onto his bed face first and screamed into the bed. He kept trying to tell himself that this wasn't his fault, but he knew it was. Everyone knew it was even if they didn't know exactly how it connected to him. They knew that one of the best agents SHIELD had ever seen was gone and the balme fell onto her partner's shoulders somehow.

* * *

She had done it, Natasha had left. That was the only out she saw, leaving the whole mess her emotions had created behind. And that's all she knew how to do, run. Run away from anything that she didn't want to deal with.

On Natasha's eighteenth birthday, she received two phone calls that she declined. On Natasha's and Clint's fourth anniversary, she was too drunk to answer the phone. Nor could she feel the pain that was taking over her heart. On Clint's twenty-second birthday, Natasha couldn't muster the courage to call him. She couldn't have even if she wanted to. Natasha was fighting a group of mutated men. At least, she assumed they were men based on their fighting strategies, physically they were to deformed to determine whether they were male of female. Her long curly hair had been singed to a short length by an unknown source. The stitches on her shoulder had been reopened and there was blood gushing down her arms. And the scariest factor of that entire moment was that Clint was haunting her mind. She then realized that just because she had run from him didn't mean that she could forget him. She hated it. She hated that for the first time in a long time, she wasn't in control of herself anymore. And she hated that it was because of her best friend.

Like Clint, she blamed it all on herself.

* * *

**What did you think? Please review!**

**Love,**

**Kaylie**

**3**


	15. Chapter 15: Moving On

**I'm so sorry it's taken me this long to update. Hope you enjoy and yes this chapter is depressing. **

**I DO NOT own Avengers or Marvel!**

* * *

She couldn't focus on anything, that's the way it had been for almost two years now. Every since that night, her mind would wander to the mistake she made. _His hands ran over her face delicately as his other hand drew small shapes on her bare abdomen. Clint's lips trailed down her stomach and back up to her ear. He sucked on the sensitive skin on her neck sending shivers through her entire body. Natasha threaded her long fingers through his hair and bucked her hips when he brushed against her entrance. _

Natasha pulled her mind away from the memories blushing. Since she had her one special night, she had made the decision that she could use sex as a weapon. And she did, a lot. She didn't love it, but it was an advantage that she had over any man who walked by her. She had that appeal that made every man weak at his knees and she was prepared to use that in anyway possible. However, it was becoming harder and harder for her to do so. Natasha couldn't help that every time she had sex, her mind wandered to Clint. And she couldn't help that she was thinking about him now as she tried to watch her mark.

* * *

Natasha was crouched in the bushes with her gun loaded and aimed perfectly. She was too distracted to hear the man creeping up behind her. In fact, it was too late when she noticed him. By then, he was already running the rusty kitchen knife over her side cutting her deep. She screamed in pain, but the malicious laughter was audible to her as he walked away wiping her red blood on his jeans. Natasha was almost gone when she saw a medic team approaching her. The last thing she saw before everything went black was her former handler, Phil Coulson walking quickly toward her.

"Don't tell him," she slurred before her pulse nearly stopped.

The second her eyes fluttered open, a dull pain flooded her body and it took a second for her eyes to focus. When they did, she recognized the room she was in. It was a room in the Helicarrier medic wing. Natasha immediately was overwhelmed with panic. She couldn't see him, not like this, not ever again.

"Don't worry," Coulson said interrupting her frantic struggle. "Barton doesn't know you're here."

Relief spread through Natasha's body as she fell back onto her bed.

"How bad is it?" She asked trying to get comfortable.

"You lost sixty percent of your blood, you've been in a coma for almost two weeks now, you've got almost two hundred stitches on your right side and you are demanded by Fury to stay in bed for the next two weeks. No missions for at least two months," Coulson informed her sitting at the foot of her bed.

"What's Clint been up to?" Natasha asked.

"Missing you, even if he won't admit it, blaming himself for you leaving, barely managing to come back from missions alive and leaving at the end of the month for a long term observation mission at a SHIELD experimentation warehouse."

Natasha was silent. It was _her _fault she left, not his. She got too attached and leaving was her only way out. Now she was here again and she would do everything in her power to stay away from the man that she loved.

"Please, don't tell him I'm here," Natasha begged.

Coulson looked at the girl in front of him. She was pallid and injured, something he was used to from his agents. But he was not familiar with the look of fear claiming Natasha's face, nor was he familiar with the desperation she possessed.

"Why?" Coulson asked.

"I can't tell you," Natasha whispered removing her eyes from his gaze.

Coulson sighed and rose from her bed.

"Fine," he sighed. "I won't tell him."

Silently, he walked closer to her and kissed her lightly on the head before exiting.

Natasha curled up slightly and fell asleep moments later.

* * *

Two weeks went by slowly, but when it was over, Natasha was anxious to leave. It was past mid-might when the doctors finally released her and something instinctively lead her toward her old room. When she stood outside Clint's room, she realized she didn't want to see her old room. She wanted to see _him._ Her fingers typed in the four digit passcode that Clint had failed to change. The doors quietly slid open and Natasha walked in without a noise. Her silent breaths hitched in her throat when she saw him. Tears formed in her eyes and her heartbeat picked up. She was sure that he would wake up at any moment and see her there in the vulnerable state he put her in.

Even in the darkness, she could make out his form and then she saw something that caused her to want to run away faster than she was planning. In his bed lying next to him was a girl. Natasha couldn't tear her eyes away from the girl. She was beautiful, blond, her features were beyond perfect and his arm was wrapped around her. The tears drained faster and she looked over at his nightstand. There was the letter she wrote to him unopened.

Natasha fled from the room back into the fluorescently lit hallway and ran away from the room with an expressionless face. She pushed her way into the vacant gym and switched on the light. She locked the double doors behind her and approached a punching bag. She didn't even bother with gloves or anything. Natasha was still beating her emotions into the punching bag well into the morning. The sun was draining into the windows before Natasha stopped fighting and sat down on the ground. Ignoring the pain screaming out in her body, she sat down on the ground and pulled her legs to her chest. She rested her head on her knees and cried. Sobbed and cried and broke down in ways she had never done before. He had replaced her with another girl. Clint had found a girl who could love him and give him what he wanted. Everything she would never be able to give him no matter how hard she tried.

* * *

Clint woke up the next morning with Bobbi curled up next to him and his muscular arm draped over her waist. She was beautiful, but not as beautiful as Natasha. He hated himself for always comparing the girl who picked him to the girl that left him, but it was something that his mind naturally did. He yawned and then he smelt that smell. It was distinct and he would recognize it anywhere. Natasha. She was here somewhere.

Quickly, he threw himself out of the bed and ran into the hallway in nothing more than his boxers and a t-shirt.

"Natasha," he screamed earning weird looks from other agents. They figured he had finally snapped, Agent Romanoff had left over a year earlier and very few knew she was about to leave. Then, he saw it. Somehow, his tired legs had carried him to the hangar and there she was boarding a jet. He saw a flash of red and then the jet was gone. Clint fell to his knees on the cold metal floor of the hangar. She was gone and there was nothing he could do about it.

After awhile, Clint dragged himself to his feet and trudged out of the hangar toward his room. When he slid the door open, he saw Bobbi still curled up on his bed tangled in the sheets. Sighing, he lifted the blankets and climbed back into his bed.

"Natasha," his mind screamed.

Closing his eyes, he placed his arm back over Bobbi's small body and prayed that he could just forget about Natasha. Unfortunately, freedom wasn't that easy to come by in his line of work.

* * *

Natasha could hear her name being called out, but she ignored it. He was calling her name, but she didn't want to see him. Breathing out heavily, Natasha climbed on the jet and sat on the bench. She glanced out the window as the jet flew off of the Helicarrier and she saw Clint's stormy grey eyes. She closed her eyes and turned away, she didn't need this. He would only ruin her. At least, that's what she told her mind as doubts began to form. She didn't him, she didn't need anyone. After all, she was the Black Widow and she just needed herself.

* * *

**So what did you think? Please reveiw!**

**Love,**

**Kaylie**

**3**


	16. Chapter 16: Compromised

**I'm so sorry I haven't updated in a long time. I hope this makes up for it.**

**I DO NOT own the Avengers or Marvel!**

* * *

The Hawk watched boredly as SHIELD grade chaos erupted below him. Fury was discussing scientific stuff Clint had been hearing non-stop for the last sleepless forty-eight hours. In fact, Clint's long legs dangled over the edge of the cat-walk as his mind wandered to more important things –Natasha's disappearance almost three years earlier. Then, he heard his name echo through the warehouse in Fury's gruff voice. Clint kept the blank scowl on his face as he strained his ears to hear the urgent conversation.

"Agent Barton," Fury said angrily into the Comm. "Report."

Clint quickly stood and slid down the rope he had hung from he had hung from his nest. Fury stood at the base of the rope with his arms crossed and exasperation evident in his good eye. Mentally Clint prepared himself for what was to come or what he expected to come. Nothing could have prepared him for what was to come. Fury turned on his heel and the agent matched his pace.

"I gave you this detail so you could keep a close eye on things," Fury said leading Clint closer to the Tesseract.

"Well, I see better from a distance," Clint deadpanned.

"Have you seen anything that might set this thing off?"

"Doctor, it's spiking again," a scientist called nervously as they walked by.

"No one's come or gone," Clint said. "Selvig's clean; no contacts, no IMs. If there's any tampering, sir, it's wasn't at this end."

"At this end?" Fury asked his voice raising.

"Yeah, the cube is a doorway to the other side of space, right?" Clint asked already aware of the answer. After, Fury nodded the Hawk continued. "Doors open from both ends."

That's when the cube began shooting out blue light and the warehouse began quaking. Clint and Fury backed away cautiously as a form materialized on the stand across from the cube. Agents neared the entrance to the portal pointing machine guns toward the form that was rising with an evil look on his face.

"Sir, please put down the spear," Fury called.

The man looked at the weapon grasped in his hand before shooting it. Clint pushed the director out of the way and they both landed on the ground with a thud. The man practically flew off of the platform and a shower of bullets filled the warehouse. Several men were already dead before Clint could push the piece of fallen equipment off of his body. He pulled the gun out of the holster strapped to his leg and began firing it. He jumped out of the way before a beam of light could hit him. Clint stood and tried to send a blow into the man's abdomen, but it was easily blocked.

"You have heart," the man said before he tapped the tip of his captor to Clint's chest.

He tried to put up a fight, but a wave of coldness and blue overcame his body. Obeying the voices, he returned his gun to its rightful place on his leg and faced his enslaver. Fury watched as his men began bidding by this alien's will while he removed the harness and placing it carefully in the case. The cube burnt through his gloves and stung his fingers.

"Please don't," the alien said. "I still need that."

"This doesn't have to get any messier," Fury said.

"Of course it does. I've come too far for anything else. I am Loki, of Asguard and I am burdened with glorious purpose."

"Loki," Selvig interrupted. "Brother of Thor?"

"We have no quarrel with your people," Fury continued

"An ant has no quarrel with a boot," Loki deadpanned.

"Are you planning to step on us?"

"I come with glad tithings if a world made free."

"Free from what?"

"Freedom. Freedom is life's great lie. Once you accept that, then your heart will know peace," Loki said turning Selvig over to his side.

"You say peace, but I kinda think you mean the other thing."

"Sir," Clint said approaching Loki. "Director Fury is stalling. This place is bound to blow and drop a hundred feet of rock on us. He means to bury us."

Fury made some reference staring down his compromised agent.

"He's right," Selvig said. "The portal is collapsing on its self. We've got maybe two minutes before this thing goes critical."

"Well then," Loki said facing Clint.

Clint tried to fight it, but his arm rose and he fired at Fury. The group of compromised agents marched toward the exit and Clint grabbed the case bearing the Tesseract.

They walked through the hallways in perfect order easily eliminating anyone who steeped in front of them.

"We need these vehicles," Clint said leading the way out of the elevator. He successfully fought the monster inside of him and didn't shoot Agent Hill. The other guy hadn't totally taken control of his body yet.

"Who's that," she asked watching Clint carefully.

"He didn't tell me," Clint said.

"Hill," Fury said over the Comm. "Do you copy? Barton is compromised."

Hill rolled behind a stone pillar as Agent Barton aimed a gun at her. Clint climbed into the vehicle and sped away. Agent Hill fired after them as they rushed away knowing that that each attempt was futile. She climbed into another vehicle and chased after the stolen tesseract.

It seemed to Clint that she wasn't the only one with that idea. Loki knocked several vehicles out as they drove away from the collapsing warehouse. Then, Hill pulled her vehicle out in front of theirs and spun the jeep out it was facing the fugitives. Rapidly, she fired her gun at the windshield and didn't even faze Barton. He also pulled a gun out and fired at her. War was breaking out.

Once the stolen vehicle exited the rubble, the helicopter began firing at them. Then, Loki shot a beam into the helicopter sending it barreling toward the desert floor. Fury humped out and began firing at the retreating vehicle.

* * *

Natasha was not happy to be back in Russia, she also wasn't that happy that she had to listen to the moron babble about how e was so great. Obviously e thought her capture was accidental, it wasn't. His hand connected with her cheek and she hissed. One of his thugs tilted the chair she was tied to back so it was dangling over the ledge she swung her feet trying to regain footing.

Then, her name exited his lips and he insults her. Natasha was not just a pretty face. She had plans to castrate him when this was over. She played along as a thug grabbed her hair and forced her mouth open. She had to contain her laughter when he pulled out a pair of pliers.

Then, a phone rang. Next thing she knew, she could hear Coulson's voice emitting from the cell phone. The old man put the phone on her shoulder.

"I need you to come in."

"Are you kidding? I'm working."

"This is important," Coulson continued.

'I'm in the middle of an interrogation," Natasha said. "This moron is giving me everything."

Natasha shot the stuttering man a look.

"Look, you can't pull me out of this right now."

"Natasha," Coulson said. "Barton's been compromised."

She felt every breath leave her body as the words pounded against her skull.

"Let me put you on hold," she said as instinct took over her body. Her vision returned shortly after and the adrenaline dulled as she reached for the phone.

"What happened?" She asked grabbing her shoes.

'We don't know."

"He's still alive?"

"We believe so. I'll brief you on everything when you get back. First, we need you to talk to the big guy."

"Coulson, you know Stark only trusts me as far as he can throw me," she joked.

"No, I'll handle Stark, you get the big guy."

Natasha paused sighing. Just the cherry on top of the cake of the messed up life she had become familiar with. She looked back at the good work she had just finished, but not even this could make her smile. Clint was gone and she had to go get a Hulk.

* * *

Natasha paid the SHIELD trainee and gave her instructions.

"Are you really the Black Widow?" She asked.

"Yeah," Natasha said.

"Do you work with Clint Barton?"

"Not anymore."

The girl ran off and Natasha waited. Not long after, the girl returned with Banner.

"Shoulda gotten paid up front," Banner said.

"For a man whose supposed to be avoiding stress, you picked a hell of a place to settle," Natasha joked walking into his view.

"The location isn't the secret."

"Then, what is it? Yoga?"

"You brought me to the edge of the city, smart choice. I assume the entire place is surrounded."

"Just you and me."

"And your actress buddy, is she a spy too? Do they start out that young, now?"

"I did."

"Who are you?"

"Natasha Romanoff."

"Are you here to kill me, Miss Romanoff? 'Cause that won't end well."

"I'm here on behalf of SHIELD."  
"How did they find me?"

"We never lost you, just watched form a distance."

"Why?"

"Fury seems to trust you. But now we need you to come in."

"What if I say no?"

"I'll persuade you," Natasha smiled.

"What if the other guy says no?"

"You've been more than a year without an incident. Don't think you want to break that streak now."

Natasha went into agent mode and began explaining what was happening. Banner joked while Natasha remained serious.

"Stop lying to me," Banner demanded.

Instinctively, Natasha clipped the safety off of her gun and had it pointed at the man.

"I'm sorry, that was mean," he apologized. "I just wanted to see what you would do."

Natasha's grip didn't waver.

"Let's do this the easy way. Where you don't use that and the other guy doesn't make a mess, okay, Natasha?"

"Stand down," Natasha said into the Comm. lowering her own weapon. "We're good here."

"Just you and me?" Banner asked.

* * *

**What did you think? Please review!**

**Kisses,**

**Kaylie**


	17. Chapter 17: Cooperation and Guilt

**I DO NOT own the Avengers or Marvel!**

* * *

"Agent Romanoff," Coulson said. Natasha stopped next to her former handler and a man who was very attractive –in a nineteen-thirties movie kind of way. "Captain Rogers."

"Ma'am," the captain said.

"Hi," Natasha said coolly. After giving the man a once over, Natasha turned to face Phil with a blank face. He hated that blank face. "They need you on the bridge."

"See you there," Coulson said walking away.

Natasha looked the captain up and down again before turning to walk away.

"It was quite the buzz around SHIELD, finding you in the ice. Thought Coulson was going to swoon. Did he ask you to sign his Captain America trading cards?"

"Trading cards?" Steve chuckled.

"They're vintage, he's very proud."

"Dr. Banner," Steve said noticing the confused man.

"Gentlemen, you might want to step inside for a moment, it's about to get a little hard to breath," Natasha smirked.

"Is this a submarine?"

Bruce made a joke as Natasha watched carefully from behind. She led the two men into the control room. Scowling, Natasha crouched down next to a computer panel that had Clint's ID pulled up along with all of his information that SHIELD knew. Natasha scoffed at the lack of Intel they had on him.

"Still not gonna find 'em in time," Natasha said.

"Ms. Romanoff, please show Banner to his lab," Fury said.

Natasha nodded climbing the stairs. Her mind was racing around in a jumbled mess of unsolvable puzzles. Nothing made sense at the moment and she couldn't process anything.

"You're lucky, Do. We've got a lot of toys," Natasha said leading a confused Banner toward the lab in the Helicarrier.

The video feed from the detention level died and they immediately began discussing strategy. Natasha was only half listening to the conversation; Clint was still missing and that was unacceptable. Mention of Selvig immediately involved her.

"He is a friend," Thor said.

"Loki has him under some kind of spell," Natasha explained. "Along with one of ours." she muttered the last part not meeting anyone's gaze.

"I hear of how you speak, but Loki is of Asguard and he is my brother," Thor said to Banner who had just claimed that you could smell crazy on him.

"He killed eighty people in two days," Natasha cut in.

"He is adopted," Thor added quickly.

Natasha rolled her eyes when Tony entered the room and began messing around. She winced when Clint's name came out of his mouth.

* * *

Tony stood in front of the table that Banner, Natasha and Steve were occupying. The man was talking about the whole mission leaving them all bored out of their minds. It appeared that only the Captain was paying attention and even his mind was only holding on to the conversation by a fraying thread. Natasha's mind was too busy to even consider concentrating; Clint was missing and she felt guilty for it. Somehow, it had to be her fault that Clint was… compromised.

Natasha made a decision; she was taking matters into her own hands. Confronting the man –maybe it was alien –that was responsible for it all; Loki. Silently, she removed herself form her chair and crept away from her chair. Her disappearance went unnoticed by everyone. Or so she believed; she didn't catch the small smirk that had spread across his know-it-all face.

When she arrived on the detention level, Natasha stood silently with her arms crossed across her chest. Loki was pacing silently and she glared at the back of his head. It took him a good thirty minutes to notice the young girl's presence. Then, he smiled and paused where he stood.

"Very few people can sneak up on me," he said facing Natasha.

"But you figured I'd come," she said with a blank expression on her face. Maybe it was a fake blank expression that was beyond forced. How could someone not care when one of the only people she had ever trusted was stuck in some mind game.

This was what she was good at, hiding emotion. Pretending no one had any power over her. Even that was slowly crumbling with the rest of her life.

"You believe that after all of the tortures Fury can concoct, you appear as a friend," Loki says softly. "As a bond and I would cooperate."

"I want to know what you've done to agent Barton."

"I'd say I've explained his mind."

"And when this is all over, what happens to his mind," she asked nearing the cell slowly.

"Is this love, Agent Romanoff," Loki taunted.

"Love is for children, I owe him a debt," she lied. She didn't believe that anymore, she hadn't since she was seventeen.

"Tell me," Loki taunted backing away from the glass and sitting down on the bench.

Natasha sighed before sitting down. She didn't realize Loki was playing her.

"Before I worked for SHIELD, I –uh –well. I made a name for myself. I have a very specific skill-set; I didn't care what I used it for. Or on."

She looked at Loki before continuing.

"I got in SHIELD's radar –in a bad way. Barton was sent to kill me. He made a different call."

"And what will you do if I vow to spare him?"

"Not let you out."

"Oh no, but I like this," Loki chuckled. "Your world in the balance and you bargain for one man."

"Régimes fall everyday," Natasha said sitting straighter in her chair. "I tend not to weep over it. I'm Russian –or I was."

"And what are you now?"

"It's really not that complicated," Natasha sighed standing up. "I've got red in my ledger; I'd like to wipe it out."

"Can you? Can you wipe out that much red?" Loki asked nearing the glass. Natasha felt fear boiling in her body as Loki began naming off the stuff that still haunted her, the things she did, the stuff only Clint knew. Clint had told him everything.

"You're ledger is dripping, it's gushing red and you think saving a man no more virtuous that yourself will change anything?"

Natasha knew the look of horror had claimed her face and she was quickly loosing control.

"This is the basis of sentimentality. This is a child, a prayer, pathetic. You lie and kill in the service of liars and killers." Natasha was screaming inside, desperate for this to be just a nightmare. That she would wake up and she would be in Russia still preparing for the interrogation.

"You pretend to be separate, to have your own code that makes up for the horrors. But, they are apart of you and they will _never_ go away." Loki slammed his fist against the glass causing Natasha to jump back startled.

"I won't touch Barton," he hissed. "Not until I make him kill you, slowly and intimately, in every way he knows you fear. And then, he'll wake long enough to see his good work and when he screams, I'll split his skull."

Natasha turned away from Loki; he didn't need to see her cry.

"This is my bargain, you mulling quimm."

"You're a monster," Natasha mumbled trying to recover.

"Oh no, you brought the monster," Loki chuckled.

"Banner. So that's your play?" Natasha asked facing him.

Loki's smirk faded into a look of confusion when he was Natasha was showing no signs of fear, but instead there was a look of amusement claiming her face.

"Loki means to unleash the Hulk," Natasha informed Coulson through her Comm. "I'm on my way, send Thor as well."

Natasha stopped at the base of the stairs and smirked at him. "Thank you for you're cooperation," Natasha added smugly before running toward the lab.

* * *

**Please review!**

**Love,**

**Kaylie**


	18. Chapter 18: Fighting the Monster

**I DO NOT own the Avengers or Marvel!**

* * *

By the time Natasha made it to the lab, the team was already fighting and pointing fingers. She quickly joined in somewhat unintentionally.

"You didn't come here because I bat my eyelashes," she hissed to Banner.

Then, Fury began making excuses to why they used the Tesseract to begin with. Natasha just stared at Thor as he continued to insult the entire human race.

"Are you really that naïve, SHIELD monitors potential threats."

No one was listening to her and she couldn't blame them, she wasn't even convinced anymore. Nor could she grasp anything that was erupting around her. She was still focused on Loki's threat.

"Take off the armor and what are you," Steve asked Tony.

"Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist," Tony said blankly.

Natasha cocked her head slightly impressed with the fact that Tony was using bug words. And maybe, if he wasn't egotistical and pigheaded, she would've been maybe a little attracted to him. Steve continued to criticize Tony and he –like a child –only made a joke out of it. Then, Tony started pointing out that Steve was only a walking steroid. More anger quickly bubbled toward the surface. Then, an explosion erupted through the Helicarrier scattering everyone in different directions.

'Clint,' Natasha thought right before the floor beneath her and Banner caved sending them plummeting a story below. A piece of broke equipment landed on Natasha's leg and she cried out in pain. Alarms sounded throughout the ship and Natasha tried to dislodge her leg.

"Romanoff," Fury said into the Comm.

"We're okay," she gasped. "We're okay, right?" She asked a battling Banner. He didn't answer.

"Bruce," she said pulling on her leg. He was turning green at a rapid pace. "This is just what Loki wants. We're gonna be okay, listen to me."

She saw a medic team approaching and she motioned for them to go away frantically. They stumbled over themselves terrified. Natasha wasn't sure if they were afraid of her –no one messed with her when she was angry –or if they were scared of the Hulk that was forming in front of them.

"We're gonna be okay," Natasha pleaded desperately. "I swear on my life, you will walk away –."

"Your life," he roared.

She was terrified and she was sure Banner could tell. He gave up fighting it, it was obvious. Bruce crawled over the edge and she pulled at her leg desperately. Bruce looked at her with fear in his own eyes.

"Bruce," she whispered as he hulked out completely. Her leg came free and she could feel the adrenaline racing through her veins. Natasha ignored the cries of protest coming from her body and scurried to her feet. She couldn't help it, she had to look at him and he saw her. She yelped, sprinting up the stairs. The Hulk roared ripping the stairs away from the bars they were attached to. Natasha grabbed onto the pipes above her head and used them like monkey bars.

She flung herself over the banister and into the storage area on the ship. Pulling out her gun, she hid in between several boxes. Curiously, she crept out of her hiding spot gripping her gun tightly and she looked for the Hulk.

Roaring, he caught sight of her. Natasha shot at the pipe above his head using it as a distraction attempt. It only angered him more. She turned around and sprinted toward the Catwalk covering her head. Fires broke out and glass shattered as the Hulk chased after her. His large fist connected with her side sending her into a box of ammo.

Natasha felt her ribs crack as every bit of air flew out of her body.

Struggling, she backed into the box with fear paralyzing her common sense. The Hulk's fist was drawn back ready to end her life when Thor broke through the wall and sent both himself and the Banner into the Hangar.

Natasha's body continued to shake uncontrollably as she pulled her legs to her chest. She struggled to regain her breath. Unintentionally, she ignored every word that came through her ear piece.

"It's Barton," Fury said over the Comm. "He's headed toward the detention level. Does anybody copy?"

"This is agent Romanoff, I copy," she replied her voice hoarse.

Immediately, she was on her feet, racing toward her former partner. She crept up behind him hoping desperately that just this once he wouldn't notice her. But, he did, her labored breath gave her away. However, she was ready to grab his bow and throw off his aim. She stared at him angrily trying to mask her fear. This wasn't Clint, this couldn't be him. This man saw what she really was; his judgment wasn't clouded by her fake innocence. He saw everything she had ever done in her eyes; he saw the blood on her hands.

The fight went on, blocking and trying to land blows. They were evenly matched, it was obvious. But, someone would have to win and it had to be her. She wasn't going to kill him, but this monster wanted to kill her.

Natasha swung on bars and columns narrowly missing arrows aimed for her eye socket. His cold blue eyes frightened her causing her to fight harder. She cried out in pain as his fist landed on her side and she was sure he could hear the crunch of the broken ribs –the sound solicited a smile on Clint's face. Quickly, she removed his precious bow from his grasp and tossed it over her shoulder as they regained their stances.

Her leg connected with his side and he cried out unsheathing one of her own daggers from his belt. She held his arm away from her throat and he tossed it to the other hand. Clint held the tip close to her throat and Natasha pulled away from him. His other hand locked into her fiery red curls and yanked her head stretching the vein in her neck. She twisted her neck and latched her teeth onto his arm. He cried out dropping the knife and Natasha sent him flying toward the banister. Struggling, he groaned before pulling himself up. Clint looked at her and she saw the evil glint returning to his grey eyes.

"Natasha," he gasped.

Angrily, Natasha landed a blow to his nose sending him backward unconscious.

She plopped down on the floor and refused to look at him. Her mind was blank as she held the dagger in her hand. Natasha twirled it between her fingers. She didn't dare to look at her old partner as a medic team dragged him away.

"Agent Coulson it down," Fury said over the Comm.

Natasha remained indifferent as she heard the words. They didn't register in her mind and maybe that was a good thing; now was not the time to break down. Right now, she needed to be the Black Widow no matter how badly she wanted to give up.

Sighing, Natasha rose to her feet and walked slowly toward what was left of the medical wing. She was going to have to face him eventually and she might as well be there when he woke up.

"Agent Romanoff," the doctor said. "You cannot go in there."

"Wanna bet?" She asked continuing to near Clint's room.

"He's not stable yet."

"I don't give a shit," Natasha said stopping suddenly and pressing the barrel of her gun of the old man's temple.

"I_ will_ use this," she threatened. He gulped nodding. She smiled sweetly returning her gun to the holster and let herself into Clint's hospital room. The second she saw him, she gasped. Maybe she wasn't ready to do this yet. But it was too late, his gray eyes shot open and a pained expression claimed his face. He fought the monster in his head pressing his wrists into the restraints holding him to the bed.

* * *

**What did you think? Please review!**

**Love,**

**Kaylie **

**3**


	19. Chapter 19: Stealing Jets

**I DO NOT own the Avengers or Marvel!**

* * *

Natasha sat on the counter watching him. He grumbled and groaned shaking his head. His eyes clamped shut and Natasha sat there feeling helpless.

"Clint, you're going to be alright," she said quietly.

"You know that. Is that what you know?" He grumbled refusing to look at her. He was still angry with her for leaving him without an explanation.

Natasha stood and poured him a glass of water keeping two feet between them.

"You don't know, I had to flush him out."

"You've been through a lot; it's going to take time."

"Have you ever had someone take your brain and pull –pull you out and put something else back in?" Clint whimpered. "Do you know what it's like to be unmade?" He looked at her desperately.

"You know I do," she said putting the cup down and looking at him.

Clint's breathing calmed and his muscles visibly relaxed.

"What did you do? How'd you get him out?"

"Cognitive recalibration," she said slowly walking toward him. "I hit you really hard in the head."

She smiled and sat down by his legs still not meeting his eyes.

"Thanks," he gasped pleading silently for her to look him in the eyes.

She turned her head and their gazes collided. Natasha reached across his body and unlatched his restraints.

"Tash," he said. "How many agents?'  
"No, don't do that to yourself, Clint," she said meeting his gaze. "This is Loki. This is monsters and magic. This is nothing we ever trained for."

"Loki, did he get away?"

"Don't suppose you know where?"

"Didn't need to know," Clint said shaking his head. "Didn't ask."

Natasha suddenly became of aware of how close they she was sitting to him. Immediately, she rose to her feet and looked out the window. Sighing, Clint flung his legs over the side of the cot and put his head in his hands.

"He's gonna make his play soon, though," Clint said grabbing the cup of water off of the table by his bed. "Today."

"We gotta stop him," Natasha said turning to face him. Clint hated that blank-agent look on her face.

"Yeah, whose 'we?'" Clint asked knocking back his glass water.

"I don't know. Who ever is left."

"Well, if I put an arrow through his eye socket, I'd sleep better I suppose."

He chuckled quietly and she claimed the spot next to him giving him a small smile.

"Now you sound like you."

He smiled, and then it faded quickly into a frown.

"But you don't," Clint said looking at her. "You're a spy, not a soldier, now you want to wade into a war. What did Loki do to you?"

Natasha felt his eyes run over her body.

"He didn't," she started to lie. His eyes told her he knew that she was hiding something. "Just." She looked at her hands that were clasped in her lap.

"Tash," he whispered. She could feel his eyes looking right through her.

"I've been compromised," she sighed. She looked at him and he saw the angry fire burning in her emerald eyes. It was familiar to him and he welcomed it gladly. "I've got red in my ledger, I'd like to wipe it out.'

It was silent for a moment and Clint decided to break it.

"What happened to your hair?" Clint asked running a strand between his fingers.

"It got singed off about two years ago by a group of mutants. It didn't grow back the way I wanted it to and my new handler decided that it would be safer for me either to wear it back or cut it."

"So you cut it?"

"I _don't_ wear my hair back in a mission."

"Still stubborn," Clint muttered.

Quickly, Clint rose to his feet and ran toward the bathroom. Natasha could hear the sound of his dry heaving through the door. Sighing, she stood and watched the door to the room slide open. There stood Steve with determination written on his face. The Captain had already suited up and held his shield in his hand.

"Time to go," Steve said.

"Go where?" She asked.

"I'll tell you on the way. Can you fly one of those jets?"

"I can," Clint said entering the room holding a towel.

Steve looked at Natasha questioningly and she nodded.

"Got a suit?" Steve asked. Clint nodded wiping his hand on the towel. "Suit up."

A matter of minutes later, they were running through the destructed Helicarrier toward the hangar. All three of them plastered on scowls and climbed into the jet.

"You guys can't be in here," the pilot said.

"Son, just don't," Steve said.

Clint and Natasha took their places in the cockpit as Steve dealt with the agent.

"Let me handle this," Natasha grumbled.

Seductively, she smiled at the agent and ran her finger over the side of his face.

"Can you do me a huge favor?" She asked batting her eyelashes.

"S-sure," he stuttered.

"Can you let it slide just this once?"

The man nodded and walked out of the jet with some difficulty. He looked back at her and she waved at him smiling. When he was out of sight, she returned to her chair and strapped herself in.

"What?" she asked when Clint shot her a surprised look. "Got an advantage, use it."

A blushing Steve Rogers sat down on the bench as they lifted off. Clint muttered under his breath rolling his eyes.

* * *

**What did you think? Please, review!**

**Kisses,**

**Kaylie**

**:)**


	20. Chapter 20: Breathe Heavily

**I DO NOT own the Avengers or Marvel!**

* * *

They could see the portal opening from fifty miles out.

"That could be a problem," Clint mumbled.

Natasha proceeded to curse under her breath in Russian. Clint just laughed and Steve watched silently confused.

"Stark, we're on your three, headed Northeast," Natasha said over the Comm.

"Finally, did you stop for drive-thru?" Tony scoffed. Swing up Park, I'm gonna lay it out for you."

Natasha smiled maliciously to herself as she began firing at the creepy aliens on chasing after tony.

"Nat," Clint said banking around StarkTower. There was a clear shot at Loki, but Thor kept getting in the way.

"See him," she said aiming. She didn't get a chance to fire. The second Loki threw his brother off of his body; he fired at them with his scepter. The shot hit the wing and sent the jet barreling toward the ground.

"That's not good," Clint said trying to regain control of the jet.

The three were getting tossed around violently and every movement rattled Natasha's shattered ribs. Natasha screamed, the noise stifled through gritted teeth. Once the jet stopped moving, Clint and Natasha scrambled to remove their seatbelts and followed the Captain out onto the streets.

"Great," Natasha mumbled pulling out her gun. They watched as the long-flying-lizard-robot slithered past them. The sound of the metal grinding against the stone building made Natasha's bruised skin crawl.

Steve chased after a squadron leaving the former partners to fend for themselves. Natasha roared angrily as she sent a dagger through the heart of a Jittari warrior.

"We need to talk," Clint said crouching next to her behind an abandoned taxi.

"Kind of a bad time," Natasha winced. Steve crouched next to them and started talking. The Widow wasn't paying any attention to the Captain; she was inwardly panicking over what Clint had just said to her. She hadn't prepared herself for this; what she would say to him if he made statements like that.

"Loki," Steve hissed as a speeder zoomed by. Natasha rose to her feet and fired randomly at the approaching monsters. Clint moved so he was barricaded behind a taxi that had been toppled over.

"We got this," Natasha said. "You can go."

"Can you hold them off?" Steve asked protectively.

Natasha was about ready to clobber him for looking at her like she was a little girl. Luckily for Rogers, Clint intervened.

"Captain, it would be my genuine pleasure," Clint said sending an arrow through the head of a Jittari. Natasha began firing bullets at random. Clint –using all the strength he could muster –pulled open the doors to a city bus and the civilians inside frantically ran to shelter.

Soon, he was rejoining Natasha who had been firing with a gun in both hand using a pile of debris as a protection.

"It's like Budapest all over again," she called.

"You and I remember Budapest very differently," Clint replied looking up at the hovers that zipped over their heads.

Clint stabbed an arrow into the chest of an alien with another attacked him sending him to the floor of the stone bridge. Apparently they didn't not take kindly to you killing their buddies. Natasha had her long legs wrapped around an alien as she held on for dear life as she dug a dagger into its back. Retrieving a disguarded spear from the ground, she took on three more. They were joined by the Captain and Thor –who took out the remaining Jittari on the bridge.

"What's the story upstairs?" Steve asked.

"The field surrounding the tesseract is impenetrable," Thor replied.

"How do we do this?" Natasha gasped pushing a strand of loose hair behind her ear.

"As a team," Steve replied.

Scoffing, Natasha rolled her eyes.

"I have unfinished business with Loki," Thor boomed wiping blood away from his mouth.

"Oh yeah," Clint deadpanned cleaning his arrows. "Step in line."

"Save it," Steve scolded looking at Clint like he was a child. Clint hated the belittlement or maybe it was the way Rogers kept looking at Natasha like it was his job to protect to her.

That's when Banner showed up on a beat up motorcycle. He climbed off and approached the team slowly. "So, this all seems horrible," Bruce said.

"I've seen worse," Natasha said blankly.

"Sorry," Banner said.

"No, we could use a little worse," Natasha smirked.

Banner smiled at her gratefully. Steve informed Tony of Banner's arrival with the hint of a smile playing on his lips.

"I'm bringing the party to you," Stark said into the Comm. They watched as Stark turned the corner and close behind was a lizard.

"I –I don't see how that's a party," Natasha stuttered.

"Doctor, now might be a great time for you to get angry," Steve said.

"That's the secret, Captain," Banner said. "I'm always angry."

They all watched as Banner hulked out and his shirt tore away from his body. The 'Other Guy' extended his fist and it collided with the nose of the lizard. Tony a series of missiles at the monster and it erupted in and explosion. Clint ran behind a toppled over car seeking shelter and watched. Steve held his shield up over both himself and Natasha earning him a glare from Clint. How dare he protect _his_ girl? Wait, he shouldn't be thinking that.

"Guys," Natasha said reloading her gun. They somehow had missed the fact that there were aliens still coming through the portal.

Captain started dealing out orders and eventually it was just Natasha and Steve still on the bridge.

" YA ne platyat dostatochno," Natasha muttered driving a dagger into an alien's head. (I don't get paid enough.)

* * *

"Stark, you got 'em hot on your tail," Clint informed through Tony through his Comm. This was what he liked; being high up with his eyes on everything.

"I'm trying to keep them off of the streets," Tony replied.

"They don't bank well," Clint said firing an arrow without looking. "Find a tight corner."

"I will, roger that," Stark replied.

Clint watched as Stark drove hovers into stone walls and waited for another open shot.

"Nice call," Stark said. "What else ya got?"

"Thor's taking on a squadron down on sixth."  
"And he didn't invite me?"

Clint watched Natasha from his perch. A warrior had her pinned against the hood of a car and she had her legs wrapped around his neck. She disarmed him and shot him with his own weapon.

Natasha turned around ready to fire at Steve before se realized who it was. Breathing heavily, she plopped down on the dust covered hood of the car.

"Captain, none of this is gonna mean a damn thing if we don't get close that portal," Natasha said.

"Stark's guns couldn't touch it," Steve said.

"Maybe it's not about guns."

"If you wanna get up there, you're going to need a ride."

Natasha looked up and immediately came up with the stupidest idea she had come up with for a while. The Alien Speeders.

"I've got a ride," Natasha said throwing down the spear and limping to the other side of the bridge. "I could use a boost, though."

"Are you sure about this?" Steve asked positioning his shield.

"Yeah, this could be fun."

She sprinted toward the car, jumped onto the hood and flung herself toward the shield. Steve watched affectionately as she twisted through the air and latched her stone hold onto the edge of the craft. She swung her legs from side to side and Climbed onto the end of the hover. Natasha pulled a blade off of her belt and slashed at the chain holding the alien to the device. Grunting, she kicked it off and crawled toward the other one. She sent two blades into its shoulders hoisting herself onto its back.

'Turn, turn, turn," she screeched as they flew toward a building.

Clint shot arrows at the aliens climbing toward him. He looked up and saw Natasha clinging to an alien trying to steer a speeder toward StartTower.

"Nat, what are you doing," he asked over the Comm.

'Trying to figure out how to turn this thing," she hissed back.

"Be careful," he said.

"No shit, Sherlock," she growled back.

"Captain, bank on Hancock and Madison. There is a hell of a lot of civilians in there," Clint said over the Comm.

"Copy that, Barton," he replied.

"Natasha, can you close the portal," Clint asked over the Comm.

"What did you think I was doing, joyriding?" She replied.

Then, another hover started firing at he. Briefly, she glanced over her shoulder and saw Loki smirking at her.

"Oh, you," she grumbled. "Hawkeye," she said into the Comm.

"Nat, what are you doing?"

"Uh, a little help."

Barton clicked the button on his bow and felt the tips shift against his back. He pulled out a detonation arrow and has it aimed toward Loki's eye.

"I got him," he smiled vengefully.

It would've hit directly at the mark too if Loki hadn't caught it. Angrily, Clint pressed the button again and it sent Loki falling from the sky. Natasha let go of the alien and gracefully flipped backwards. She landed on the roof and rolled ignoring the scream of protest by standing up.

Natasha slowly approached the device holding the tesseract not noticing Dr. Selvig.

"The scepter," Selvig said startling Natasha.

"Doctor," she said crouching beside him.

"Loki's scepter. The energy; the Tesseract can't fight against it herself."

"It's alright," she said. "You didn't know what you were doing."

"Yes, I think I did."

Natasha looked at him confused.

"I built him a safety to cut the power."

"Loki's scepter," Natasha said filling with realization or maybe it was pain. The two were starting to blur together.

"It may be able to close the portal. And I'm looking right at it."

"I've got it," Natasha said.

She started climbing down the side of the building and landed on the ground lacking her usual grace. Natasha grabbed it gingerly and strapped it to her belt. Quickly, she climbed back up the face of the tower flooded with determination. She chucked when she looked back and saw Loki lying unconscious in a whole about the size of him.

Clint was struggling on the rooftop, not even he could hold that many warriors off. Using his last arrow, he shot a grappling hook across the street as he jumped off the side of the building. He went feet first through the window. He landed sprawled out on his back and cried out feeling the shards pierce through his armor and plunge into his skin. Hawkeye rose to his feet and trudged toward the stairs.

Natasha pulled the scepter out of her belt breathing heavily. Blood, sweat and dirt was creating a second skin and she felt like one giant bruise.

"Right there," the doctor said. Using all the strength in her body, Natasha pushed the scepter through the protective field.

"I can close it," she gasped. "Does anybody copy?"

"Close it," Steve replied quickly.

"No, wait," Stark cut in.

"Stark, these tings are still coming," Steve said.

"I've got a nuc coming in, it's gonna blow in less than a minute. And I know just where to put it."

Natasha watched Tony grab the missile and redirect it.

"Stark, you know that's a one way trip," Steve said.

"Yep."

Natasha knew immediately what he was doing. He was lying down on the wire and letting the other guy crawl across. Not only was he subtly proving Steve wrong, he was making up for all of the crap he ever did. Tony knew exactly what he was doing.

Natasha was so busy watching Tony that she didn't notice Clint limp onto the roof. The aliens all collapsed where they stood leaving New York destroyed and in flame. That too went unnoticed by the Widow.

"Come on, Stark," she whispered.

"Close it," Steve said. Natasha obeyed the order reluctantly, but shoved the tip of the scepter into the Tesseract and watched nervously. A sigh of relief she didn't know she was withholding escaped her lips when Stark came plummeting through the closing portal. Roaring, the Hulk caught the seemingly unconscious billionaire and dropped him on the concrete.

"Yes," Natasha exclaimed dropping the scepter. She turned around noticing Clint. Immediately, she launched herself at him squealing with delight.

"We did it," he said wrapping his arms around her. He buried his nose in her curly flames and smiled. Almost immediately after that, Natasha realized what she was doing and pushed him away clearing her throat. She sprinted down the staircase and found Loki still unconscious. Clint followed close behind holding both his bow and the scepter. He handed it to the girl sitting cross legged in front of the demigod breathing heavily. She looked at him questioningly as she took it.

"Thought you might want it," he said picking up an arrow that was lying on the granite floor by the window.

The rest of the team joined the partners and they all gathered around the fugitive. Natasha crossed her arms over her chest with white-knuckles wrapped around the handle of the scepter. Steve claimed the spot next to her earning another glare from Clint who crouched in front of the team with his bow drawn.

They watched as Loki's hands slowly pulled himself up the steps. He paused noticing the angry team –each member holding a weapon close –and smiled guiltily.

"If it's all the same to you," he said. "I'd take that drink now."

"I'll give it to you, but I hope you don't mind if I make it myself," Natasha smiled with a deceitful glint in her eye.

Loki shook his head well aware that the angry teenager would probably poison it.

* * *

**That was the longest chapter I've ever written. What did you think? Please, review!**

**Love,**

**Kaylie**

**:)**


	21. Chapter 21: New Nightmares

**I DO NOT own the Avengers or Marvel!**

They silently sat at the table in the schwarma joint. Both of Clint's legs were resting in his partner's lap and he looked off into space. None of them –minus Banner and Stark –had bothered to change. They were all covered in sweat, blood and dust. Natasha stared at Clint, terrified that at any given second the cold blue would seep into Clint's eyes and the stranger would return. Every one of them stuffed their faces with the foreign food –especially Thor.

Clint's eyes collided with Natasha's gaze and he shot her a questioning look. She shook her head at him and turned slightly in her chair to grab her sandwich. Clint winced and Natasha looked him over. Silently, she stood and walked to the counter with a slight limp in her step.

"Do you, by any chance, have an ice pack?" She asked sweetly. The innocence in her voice startled the rest of her team –aside from Clint who continued to devour the food in front of him. A girl who had just destroyed an army couldn't possibly be that innocent, could she?

"Of c-course," the man behind the counter stuttered stumbling over his feet. Smiling, Natasha turned so the edge of the counter was pressing into her back. She noticed her team's incredulous looks boring into her.

"What?" She asked. "You got an advantage, use it."

"Thank you," she smiled taking the baggy filled with ice from the blushing man.

She limped back to her seat and sat down Rolling his eyes, Clint put his sandwich down and draped his right leg over her lap. Gingerly, Natasha pulled his pant leg out of his boot and pushed it up over his swollen knee.

"You're an idiot," she mumbled.

Natasha counted quietly and Clint's hand latched onto the edge of the table. Everyone else flinched when they heard a crack and Clint's stifled groan. They all knew very well that she had just popped his knee back into place and were left in awe. Wiping her hands on her legs, Natasha returned to her original position and rearranged Clint's leg. Using her free hand, she held the bag of ice on his knee. Both assassins returned to their sandwiches.

"So," Stark started. "Anybody know what the plan is for Coulson?"

Natasha shook her head frantically pleading for Stark to drop the subject. He didn't appear to catch on.

"What do you mean?" Clint asked confused.

"Well, we have to do something for his funeral, don't we," Stark continued.

"Why do we need to have a funeral for him?" Clint asked his eyebrows furrowing together.

"Because he di-." Stark started, but was cut off by a threatening Black Widow.

"Shut the hell up, Tony," Natasha shouted interrupting him.

"You didn't tell him?" Tony asked.

"Not yet," Natasha said. "We were a little busy."

"You need to tell him."

"Tell me what?" Clint demanded shifting suddenly. Natasha winced as the sudden movement rattled her ribs.

"Coulson… he…um…well… he died this morning," Natasha whispered sheepishly. "Loki killed him."

"And you didn't think _I_ should know?" Clint asked his voice raising.

"We'll do this later," Natasha whispered into his ear quietly.

"What just happened?" Tony asked.

"Something none of us will ever understand," Steve said sipping on the soda in front of him.

"It's like they have one brain," Tony said to Thor as the partners bit into their food at the same time.

"You know we can hear you," Clint said not even lifting his head.

Natasha dragged her feet on the carpet of the motel room. She tossed her weapons on the bed and paid no attention to the man who flopped down on the bed looking pale. The door closed loudly behind her as if it was finally putting a safe distance between the two. Natasha peeled the leather uniform away from her body and tossed it carelessly to the floor. On her way to the shower, she caught a glimpse of the bruise that had taken claim of her entire right side and grimaced.

Natasha switched the water on in the shower and stepped into the hot water. Her tense muscles relaxed on impact and she sighed in pleasure loudly. The warm water trailed down her skin slowly washing the grimy layer away from her skin.

It was a good hour later when she stepped out of the shower. The soft threads of the rug outside the shower squished through her damp toes. Natasha pulled the towel off the bar on the shower door and wrapped it around her body. Slowly, she pulled the door open and walked into the room with her skin still dripping.

Clint sat on the bed with his cell phone pressed to his ear. Natasha could make out the sound of a shrill voice panicking on the other end. Scoffing, Natasha rolled her eyes as she pulled the suitcase SHIELD had delivered for her onto the bed. When Clint noticed her, she was sure she could hear his breath hitch in her throat. Sure it was a figment of her imagination; Natasha proceeded to dig around looking for something comfortable. She pulled out a pair of underwear, a black bra, a peach tank-top with three buttons at the top and a pair of white pajama pants with thin black stripes. Clint watched her as she dropped the towel and pulled on the under garments.

"Babe, I'm fine," Clint said. "It's just part of the job description."

Natasha shook her head chuckling lightly as the woman on the other end continued to scream. She turned slightly to reach for the tank top and Clint turned to look at her again. He frowned slightly when he saw, not only the bruise, but the light scar running up her side illuminated by the dim lamp light. However, his attention was quickly brought back to the conversation he was taking part in.

"Look, I'll meet you somewhere tomorrow, okay?" Clint said irritation evident on his face.

Eventually, he tossed his phone on the nightstand between the two beds and looked at Natasha who was now fully dressed. Sighing, he ran his hand over his face and put his head in his hands.

"So, I'm guessing that was Bobbi," Natasha said running a hair brush through her curls.

"How'd you know about her?" Clint asked lifting his head.

"Come on; give me more credit than that. I'm a spy, I have my ways," Natasha smirked.

Clint shot her a look and she sighed sitting on the bed next to Clint. "Fine, Coulson told me."

"Will you stand up for a minute," Clint asked.

"What?" She asked looking at him like he was crazy.

"Just let me look at something."

Natasha muttered something in Russian under her breath, but stood all the same. She didn't even protest when he lifted her shirt over her head, instead she sighed exasperated lifting her arms. Involuntarily, she shivered when he ran his calloused fingers over the pink line.

"What happened?"

"Just a little scrape," she lied.

"What _really_ happened, Nat?" He asked.

"I was on a solo mission two years ago and I wasn't paying attention to anything other than my mark. Someone –I assume from Red Room –slit my side open. The doctor said it would've taken hours for me to die. Coulson said he figured whoever did it didn't want me dead, just wanted to make sure I suffered," Natasha said. She sat down next to him on the bed balling the shirt up in her hand.

"Coulson knew about this?"

"Yeah, I got taken to the Helicarrier and was in a coma for two weeks."

"Why didn't I hear about this?"

Natasha didn't reply, instead stood up and walked toward the desk. Sighing, Clint did the same and started toward the bathroom. As he crossed the room, he pulled his shirt over his head and failed to notice the nineteen year old watching him carefully.

"Stop," she said.

He heard the sound of a bed creak and assumed she was approaching him. Her nimble fingers ran down his back and he was too startled to try to stifle his pain.

"Damnit, Clint, it's already infected," she shouted.

"I didn't think it was that bad, it just hurt like hell," he defended.

"There is glass in your back and you didn't think it was that bad. God, Clint, how stupid are you?!"

"Nat, I don't want to fight with you," he said turning to face her.

Scowling, she pointed toward the bed and he walked to the bed muttering under his breath. Clint lied down on his stomach huffing. He could hear Natasha digging through her bag muttering curses in Russian. When she found the first aid kit, she walked over to Clint and climbed it. Coming to a last resort, Natasha figured the best way to do this would be to climb on top of him and sit on his butt. Once she was situated, Natasha opened the first aid kit and pulled out the medical needle, sinew and tweezers. She placed the trashcan next to her on the bed before analyzing what exactly she was dealing with.

"This might hurt… a little," she said. "Oh, who am I kidding? This is going to hurt like hell."

"Great," Clint muttered. Natasha may have been good at treating injuries, but she wasn't always gentle about it. At least, not with him.

Natasha began removing the small flecks of glass in his skin. After she was done playing nurse and there were stitches in his back, she curled up next to him. Clint pulled his uniform off the rest of the way and returned to his spot in only his boxers. Instinctively, he draped his arm over her body as if to ward off any nightmare to come. Unfortunately for both of the assassins, new nightmares haunted them. Natasha was terrified to close her eyes, but eventually exhaustion got the better of her and sent her into a terrifying sleep.

**What did you think? Please review!**

**Love,**

**Kaylie**

**3**


	22. Chapter 22: Faking

**I DO NOT own the Avengers or Marvel!**

* * *

"So," Natasha said. "What's the plan?"

They were just driving; at least that's what Natasha thought. All she wanted to do was get as far away from New York as possible. After they said goodbye to Thor, they all went their separate ways promising to move into StarkTower after it was finished. Which Tony claimed would be no later than the following month; Natasha told him he was delusional. He told her that he was just optimistic and in return she scoffed at him. However, she didn't pull her gun on him when he hugged her.

"I have to pick up Bobbi from the New York base," Clint said.

"Why is she at headquarters?" Natasha asked.

"After the… Loki incident," Coulson said. "Coulson ordered her into maximum security protection."

"Oh," Natasha said blankly masking the hurt she felt when her name came off his lips with adoration.

"It kinda surprised me when Hill told me; I always assumed Coulson and Fury didn't like her."

"Why not?" She chocked out praying for him to change the subject.

"She –well –she isn't anything like you, that's for sure. Bobbi doesn't get why we do what we do. She doesn't understand why we have nightmares or why we won't open up about what we've seen."

Natasha sighed and looked out the front windshield muttering Russian profanities to herself. The black car pulled into the parking lot of the crumbling SHIELD headquarters. There was a group of agents standing in the otherwise vacant parking lot. In between the men, Natasha recognized the woman from that night two years prior. As she stepped out of the car, she took in the stranger's appearance.

"You have got to be kidding me," Natasha said pulling off her sunglasses.

Bobbi was blond –Natasha already knew that -, head piercing blue eyes and was beautiful, but it was obviously fake beauty materialized by makeup. But, much to Natasha's dismay, still beautiful and still nothing like herself. Her wavy blond hair cascaded past her shoulders, there was a pair of pink thick rimmed sunglasses adorning her head, she was wearing a short floral skirt that was so bright it made Natasha's eyes water, tucked into the skirt was an off-white tank-top, a tan leather belt, brown leather boots and a light pink jacket with embellishments Natasha found gaudy. The girl made Natasha want to gag and part of her hated her on the spot. She was the equivalent to a high school cheerleader; full of pep and beyond annoying.

"Be nice," Clint scolded quietly.

Before Natasha could blink, she was being shoved out of the way by a squealing Bobbi and was sitting on the ground. She hissed quietly to herself as a wave of pain danced through her body. Huffing, she smacked her hands on the rough pavement and dragged herself to her feet. She shot daggers at the back of Bobbi's perfect little head while she brushed dirt off of her jeans. Seeing Clint and Bobbi kissing felt like a punch to the stomach to Natasha.

"Kill me now," she muttered venomously.

Next thing Natasha knew, Bobbi was running at her with out-stretched arms. Before she could utter a 'don't even think about it,' Bobbi had her enveloped in a bone-crushing hug. Natasha was having a problem suppressing the instinct to pull her gun out and point it at the psycho's head.

"You must be Natasha," Bobbi squealed into her ear. "Clint had told be so much about you."

'Obviously not enough,' Natasha thought bitterly.

It was obvious Natasha was uncomfortable; she was tensed and she had a pained expression claiming her face. Clint noticed her fingers twitching at her side and immediately intervened. After all, he didn't need to take his girlfriend to the ER because his…partner –he wasn't really sure what him and Natasha were anymore –shot her over a hug.

"We should get going," Clint smiled pulling his girlfriend away from Natasha. He shot the assassin a warning look when he saw the murderous fire ignited in her cold emerald eyes.

Clint opened the passenger door for Bobbi and Natasha gagged when she gave him a charming smile. Natasha started to climb into the car, but was stopped midway by Clint's rough grip wrapping around her arm. His hold on her arm tightened when she faced him and she glared at him.

"Let go of my arm," she hissed.

Clint simply extended his free hand and Natasha immediately became aware of what he wanted. He wanted every weapon on her body.

"Not happening, Lover-boy," she stated yanking on her arm. It came free of his grasp and she was caught off guard when he grabbed her again and removed the gun from her belt himself.

"Give me the dagger," he said.

Muttering angrily, she reached into the top of her shirt and pulled the sheathed dagger out of her cleavage. Glowering, she smacked it into the Hawk's hand angrily. He smiled at her before climbing into the driver's seat. Natasha plopped into her seat and crossed her arms over her chest huffing. At least, she still had the old kitchen knife in her boot.

As Clint drove, he held Bobbi's small hand in his free hand. With fingers intertwined, the two hands were rested in between their seats giving Natasha a great view of the horror. He had already driven the dagger through her back, now he was just twisting it digging it further and further in. He had to have known what he was to doing to the red-head. Now, he was just throwing it in her face. This girl was everything he ever wanted; she could give him what he wanted. Natasha wasn't, it was clear.

She knew she should've been okay with that, so why wasn't she?

* * *

To Natasha's surprise, Stark did in fact; finish the tower less than a month later. Despite the fact that she lost ten bucks to Banner, Natasha was desperate to move out of the hotel room she had been sharing with Clint and Bobbi. She was sick of having to stifle her screams when she had a nightmare. And she could _not_ spend another night with Bobbi trying to get her into a dress. Quite honestly, Natasha wasn't sure why they were in the hotel room with her at all; Bobbi had an apartment in Jersey. She assumed it was just another way for Clint to throw it all in her face in some cruel, subtle way.

Natasha was pulling two suit cases bearing everything she owned out of the backseat of a SHIELD car when Steve came up behind her. It was obvious she was struggling, not that she would ever admit it to anyone that she needed help.

"Need some help?" He asked grabbing both of the suitcases.

"You know I can handle it myself," she said pulling a violin case out of the car and slamming it shut.

"Yeah, just thought I would help," Steve said smiling down on her.

She chuckled softly and shot him a slight smile. Steve was actually kind of surprised he didn't have a gun pointed at his head.

"Do you play?" He asked gesturing to her case.

"Yeah," she said looking down at the worn out case in her hand.

The two stopped standing directly in front of the tall building. Natasha craned her neck to look up at the tall building rising in front of her.

"So, this is home, huh?" Steve asked following her gaze.

"I wouldn't know," Natasha said climbing the steps. Steve walked next to her into the lobby and they were met by the rest of the team –minus Thor. Unfortunately for Natasha, Bobbi was also standing there wrapped in Clint's arms. She was too busy glaring Bobbi and Clint that she didn't notice Steve drop her bags next to her. Nor did she notice Tony walk up behind her.

"I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say you don't like her," Tony said startling Natasha –not that she let him see that.

"What makes you think that?" She asked slinging the instrument case over her shoulder and grabbing the bags by her feet.

"You were burning holes in the back of her head," Tony said. "I'm surprised I'm the only one who noticed."

"The only person –other than you apparently –who knows how to read what I'm thinking is too wrapped up in his perfect girl," Natasha said blankly. "But, who cares, right? Emotions are just a bunch of games."

She wasn't very convincing, she knew that. Natasha panicked inwardly, she was loosing her skills. She was becoming soft and that was unacceptable.

"You love him, don't you?" Tony said. The joking tone in his voice was gone and had been replaced with a seriousness she had only heard from him once and that was years ago. That fact did not go unnoticed by the Widow.

"No, love is for children," she said walking toward Bruce.

* * *

The sight of Natasha walking into the tower with Steve holding her suitcases made Clint's blood boil. He knew that it shouldn't have –he had Bobbi after all –but he couldn't help it. And the fact that Tony gave him a knowing look when she walked in didn't help anything at all. It's like he was silently saying he knew the truth. That man drove Clint up the wall.

"Babe, you okay," Bobbi asked removing Clint from his thoughts.

"Yeah, fine," Clint lied shooting his girlfriend a fake smile.

'Natasha would know that the smile was fake,' Clint thought.

* * *

**So, what did you think? Please, review! Who else is excited for Thor 2 or Captain America 2? Thank you to everyone who had favorited, followed or reviewed this story. Also, I'm thinking about removing Boiling Under The Surface and Like Father, Like Daughter. Just a fair warning. Again, review, please.**

**Love,**

**Kaylie**

**3**


	23. Chapter 23: Happy Birthday

**I DO NOT own the Avengers or Marvel!**

* * *

The blood-curdling scream echoed through the apartment as she pulled herself away from another nightmare. Natasha's red hair stuck to the side of her face and her shaking body was covered in sweat. Hot tears rained inconsolably as she continued to gasp for air. Nightmares had been claiming her sleep since… the incident. Only now, she didn't have to stifle the screams. She had her own room now, one she didn't share with someone she couldn't be in the same room with and his girlfriend.

After the raspy gasps subsided to quiet sobs, Natasha rose to her feet and draped the thick quilt over her shoulders and exited her bedroom. She had to hand it to Tony; he did a nice job on her room. There was a large queen sized bed with a dark wood frame and a purple bedspread, a dark wooden desk, a purple and gray office chair, a set of shelves attached to the wall stacked with books in Russian –her own addition-, a vase, a large window with light curtains draped over the protruding rod, soft shag carpeting and light gray walls. When she had first entered the room, Tony had hung a picture of Natasha and Clint over her bed –probably copied from a SHIELD database –the two in combat. Natasha had immediately removed it from the wall and shoved it into the walk-in closet.

Tip-toeing, Natasha walked into the hallway and scurried past her teammates bedrooms. As she passed Clint's bedroom –that Bobbi had moved into to Natasha's dismay –she heard mumbling. Instinctively, she held her breath willing herself to go undetected by the couple. Luckily, she did, but it didn't surprise her. Everything she did went unnoticed by them. She had become invisible to them –Clint especially. But, by then, she was too numb to the fact to care.

Once she was in the living room, she walked toward the large couch. Natasha shifted the throw pillows and curled up in her quilt. It was silent other than her steady breathing and the distinct hum from the refrigerator in the kitchen. Other than the faint glow from the flat screen television, it was pitch black. Her eyes drooped shut and soon she fell into a light sleep that, like the every other one, was ended with a scream.

* * *

It was the same nightmare, the same skin-crawling scream, but this time she awoke every single inhabitant in the pent house. Steve was the first one to fly into the living room with his shield in his hand. Then, it was Bruce who looked a little tired –and tinted green- but otherwise unarmed unless you count the pillow in his hand. Tony came running in holding an empty brandy bottle over his head. Pepper was close behind with a frightened look on her exhausted face. And lastly, Clint came in holding a gun with Bobbi practically attached to his arm.

"What the hell is going on?" Tony asked clearly angry his beauty sleep had been disturbed.

Natasha didn't respond. She had her knees pulled to her chest, sobs raking her body, sweat drenching her body and a look a terror claiming her usual blank demeanor.

"Natasha, what's wrong?" Steve asked.

"Blood…. Dying…. Loki….Eyes," Natasha whimpered. At least, that's what they could make out. Steve looked at her worried and Clint just rolled his eyes.

"She just had a nightmare," Clint said lowering his gun.

"This is normal?" Pepper asked concerned.

"Yeah," Clint said not removing his eyes from the shaking girl. He wanted to help her, but he didn't need the questioning.

"Just go away…I'm fine," Natasha choked out. The tears had stopped and she was no longer shaking, but the look of horror was still present in her emerald eyes.

"No," Pepper yawned. "You're not. You still have that look in your eyes."

"I can handle it myself, I have been for the last three and a half years," Natasha said.

"Wait, you didn't tell me you were having nightmares when we were in the hotel," Clint said.

"I can take care of myself," she spat standing up and walking over to the elevator.

"Where the hell are you going," Clint said.

"Why do you care," she snapped as the elevator closed.

* * *

The next morning, the team woke up not expecting to see Natasha for the rest of the day. I mean, what happened the night before any normal person would be embarrassed. And being the Black Widow, she was famous for not dealing with emotions well. However, she surprised them all when they found her in the kitchen the next morning attempting to make French toast with enlisted help from JARVIS. It was obvious from the charred pieces of bread sitting on the plate that the first round had been unsuccessful.

"What are you doing?' Steve asked coughing on the smoke.

"Making breakfast," Natasha said.

"What ever you say," Steve said politely hoping on the counter opposite of Natasha.

"The first batch didn't really work out, but I think I got this one right," she said wiping her hands on her blue pajama pants. Steve no longer blushed when he saw her in her pajamas which usually consisted of some kind of plain pajama pants and a sports bra in some bright color.

"What are you making?" Steve asked.

"French toast," Natasha said putting two piece of freshly finished toast onto a plate. "Tell me what you think."

Steve took the plate smiling sat down on the bar stool. Natasha slid the syrup and a fork over to Steve and watched him expectantly. Timidly, he took a bite –Natasha had become famous in the tower for her lack of cooking ability. Surprisingly, the French toast wasn't actually that bad. In fact, it was pretty good, by Natasha's standards of course.

"Be brutally honest," she said.

"Not bad," he said cutting himself another bite.

"Really?" She asked hopefully. She handed him a glass of milk and leaned on the counter.

"Yeah, a lot better than your attempt at lasagna last week," Steve said.

Laughing, Natasha swatted at him with the dish towel on the counter. Clint and Bobbi then walked into the living room. Natasha could hear the sound of Bobbi choking on the smoke that had filled the pent house.

"Is Natasha cooking again," Clint asked swatting at the air in front of him.

"Yeah," Steve smiled at the red head standing across from him. "I must say her second attempt turned out pretty well, if I do say so myself."

Clint rolled his eyes and then hopped onto a stool next to Bobbi. His arm laced around her shoulders and Natasha felt a pang file into her body. Natasha slid two plates across the counter and started cleaning up the kitchen. She watched out of the corner of her eye as Clint drenched his breakfast in syrup as if that was the only way to drown out the fact that _she_ made it. He leant over and whispered in Bobbi's ear a warning 'I would do the same if I were you' as if he had somehow forgotten about Natasha's enhancers.

"Well," Natasha said pushing away from the counter. "I'm gonna go take a shower."

"Isn't Pepper taking you out shopping for your birthday today," Steve asked.

"Unfortunately that would be correct."

"Good luck," Steve smiled.

* * *

Holding up a dress for Natasha, Pepper tried to maintain a conversation. However, he couldn't hold up both ends and the other woman wasn't putting out much of an effort. She skimmed the racks of jeans looking for something that wasn't covered in rhinestones or frilly patterns giving the occasional 'yes' or nod.

Since she had moved into the tower, Natasha had only really gotten close with two people; Pepper –being the only woman in the tower that didn't make her want to pull her own hair out—and Steve. Tony just kind of acted like an annoying older brother, but was the only one who allowed her to drink given that today was only her twentieth birthday. Clint and Natasha had seemingly grown further and further apart since the battle in New York, not that they were really open about the fact. Bruce, he was like the father to all of them being the oldest by a large sum of years. He kept them all in line for the most part. Bobbi, she drove them all crazy, but no one voiced their dislike. They didn't have to, everyone had silently agreed that their feelings toward the 'normal' girl were pretty much equal. Clint and Bobbi were oblivious to the fact and continued to be just as obnoxious.

"What's wrong?" Pepper asked.

"Nothing," Natasha said throwing a pair of black jeans over her arm.

Pepper gave her a 'yeah right look' and placed her nicely manicured hands on her hips. Natasha sighed before moving onto the dresses hoping to distract the blond. Hopefully, she held up a plain black dress that was about knee length.

"Not going to work, Natasha," Pepper said tapping her foot.

"Fine," Natasha sighed. "It's just, it's my birthday and _he _doesn't even give a shit. I mean, I've had far worse birthdays –I spent the first nine years of my life in Red Room -, but before I left, Clint would always sneak some vodka onto the Helicarrier and buy me some ridiculous present that I would never use. I miss that. Me, the Black Widow feels something."

"Everyone feels something," Pepper said.

"But, I don't. And if I do, I don't tell anyone. I made a name for myself by doing my job without emotion. Only Clint and Phil had ever seen me feel anything. I've cried once in front of Clint when I wasn't bleeding out and that's because some douche bag wanted-." She cut herself off there. No matter how much she liked Pepper, she didn't totally trust her with that kind of stuff. She didn't trust anyone with that kind of stuff anymore.

"I think we have enough stuff," Pepper said. "Let's go check out." The blonde lead the younger girl to the check out counter and stacked the clothes neatly. After Pepper paid –claiming that this was a present after Natasha protested –the two walked out of the store each holding several shopping bags.

They walked through the elevator laughing about something ridiculous. The team was sitting in the living room watching some movie that only Bobbi seemed to be interested. Their arrival went unnoticed and they snuck into Natasha's room down the hall. After all the clothes had been hung up in Natasha's practically empty closet, they walked back down the hallway. Pepper sat down on Tony's lap and he wrapped his arms around her body. Natasha sat next to Steve in the large armchair and cuddled into his side. His muscular arm pulled her closer and she rested her head on his chest. The closeness of the two didn't go unnoticed by the rest of the team.

Jokingly, Tony whistled at the two which earned him an elbow in the stomach from his girlfriend and a pillow tossed at him by Natasha. Clint was visually jealous, but only Natasha seemed to catch on to it. She just smirked to herself and pulled her body closer to Steve's.

"I think it's sweet," Bobbi responded to Tony's joke. Natasha rolled her eyes holding in the snarky 'no one gives a shit' biting at her tongue.

"What the hell are you guys watching?" Natasha asked.

"Frankenstein," Tony said.

"This is stupid," Natasha said. "It's a horror movie that isn't even scary."

"Nothing scares you," Tony said in response.

Clint opened his mouth to say something that Natasha assumed would reveal some secret she didn't want _anyone _to know. She shot him a murderous glare and he quickly shut his mouth.

"Very true," she said. "But, this is even lower than horror movie standards."

"It's in black and white and was made in the fifties," Bobbi pointed out.

"That's no excuse," Natasha said.

"I'm not even scared," Steve said.

That's when a scream echoed through the speakers. Bobbi squeaked digging her head into Clint's chest and Natasha scoffed. Ridiculous.

The screen went black and Fury's face appeared on the screen. Natasha and Clint sat a little straighter in their seats waiting for the inevitable.

"Agent Romanoff, Agent Barton," Fury said.

"Sir," Natasha said.

"You are needed at the New York base immediately. From there you will be given a mission. Do I make myself clear?" The director said.

"Yes, sir," Clint and Natasha said both scrambling to their feet.

"Wheels up in an hour do _not_ be late."

The screen went blank and the black and white movie resumed. No one was watching anymore. They were all sitting in the living room staring at each other. Steve rose to his feet and chased after Natasha.

When he opened her door, he saw her already frantically throwing clothes and weapons into the bag. She had her uniform already pulled on up to her waist with her back to him. Steve walked over to the bed and held her hands. She looked up at him and he could've sworn there were tears threatening to fall down her cheeks. Steve dropped her hands and pulled her against him. Surprising both of them, she hugged him back.

"You don't have to go," Steve said.

"Yes, I do," she replied pulling away. "It's my job."

He watched her throw rummage through drawers trying desperately to find something.

"Then, you can quit your job."

"No, I won't ever be able to," Natasha said and he knew what she meant. She would never be able to let go of the thrill of improving or winning a fight when the odds were not in her favor. She would never be able to put the gun down; she had seen too much to just leave it. "And if I don't go on this mission, I won't ever improve."

Steve had noticed that both Clint and Natasha _always_ had to get better. If something went wrong, they would move heaven and earth to make sure it _never_ happened again. He knew well that Natasha had been through a lot in her lifetime and he knew that there were some things even Clint didn't know.

Steve sighed and put his hands on either side of her face. "Be careful," he said desperately. She nodded her head looking at him with her big green eyes. Closing his eyes, he pressed his lips to her forehead and pulled her closer to his body. Reluctantly, she pulled away.

Natasha pulled her uniform up over her body the rest of the way and zipped the front. She slung the bag over her shoulder and walked out of the door leaving Steve standing there. Without thinking it through, she ran back into her room, rose to her tippy-toes, pressed a soft kiss onto Steve's lips and then ran out. He stood there for a good half an hour stuck in a pool of confusion. The Black Widow kissed him? That couldn't be right. A beautiful girl like her kissed him. Him, of all people.

* * *

By the time Clint got down to the garage, Natasha was already leaning against his car with her arms crossed over her chest. He knew Bobbi's pink lipstick was probably smeared across his face. Natasha didn't seem to notice him approaching her and if she did, she didn't let on. There was a hint of a blush on her cheeks as she traced her foot through the dirt on the cement floor.

"Took you long enough," she said not looking up at him.

"I was packing," Clint said climbing into the driver's seat.

"Packing," Natasha said looking at him as she climbed into the passenger's seat. "That totally explains the pink lipstick."

Clint backed out of the garage and they rode in silence to the base. When they pulled in, they were both impressed with the fact that it had been repaired so quickly. Six months ago, the building was crumbling and looked as if it could crumble at any given moment. Now, it had been completely rebuilt.

"Well, this is it," Clint said.

"Yep," Natasha said opening the door and climbing out. Her boots clomped against the newly laid asphalt as she walked closer to the building. Clint sprinted to catch up to her. They walked in the glass double doors and were immediately welcomed by the organized chaos that was their job.

"Great to be back," Natasha said walking toward the stair case leading to the conference room.

When they entered the room with the four glass walls that overlooked the entire base, they were greeted by Fury sitting at the table with two envelopes sitting in front of him on the table.

"Agents," he said rising to his feet.

"Sir," Clint said.

Fury approached his agents and handed them each a folder.

"What's this?" Natasha said.

"The paperwork you both failed to fill out after New York," Fury said.

"This is what you called us here for?" Clint asked.

"No," Fury said picking up two folders off of the table and handing them to the agents. "That's the briefing for your new assignment."

The two agents nodded and turned to leave.

"Natasha, Clint," Fury said catching them both off guard. Fury never used their real names,_ never_. They both turned to face him and watched him pull two envelopes out of his pocket. Natasha's breath caught in her throat as she took an envelope in her hand. Phil's messy cursive was on the front spelling out her name. She knew what this was, she had written one for Phil and Clint when she was fifteen.

"We were cleaning out Coulson's locker, thought you might want to read 'em," Fury said.

Natasha nodded and Clint uttered a 'thank you.'

"That will be all; you're jet leaves in five minutes. Get a move on."

Once they were gone, Natasha could've sworn she heard a 'happy birthday, Agent Romanoff' echo after her in the Director's gruff voice.

* * *

**Ohhhh, what do you think? I cried when I wrote this. Kind of cliffy and I apologize for that. Please, review!**

**Love,**

**Kaylie**

**:)**


	24. Chapter 24: Crimson Blood

**I'm sorry it's been awhile since I last updated and I'm apologizing in advance for the fact that this chapter is so short. **

**I DO NOT own the Avengers or Marvel!**

* * *

"You and Steve, huh?" Clint said.

"What?" Natasha asked leaning to look up at him. They were sitting in a tree watching their mark carefully. Clint was sitting three branches above his partner looking through his binoculars. He could hear Natasha's callused fingers tapping against the keys of her laptop. It was the middle of Winter in Berlin and the frosty breeze bit at his exposed skin.

"You and Steve, you guys are a thing, right?" Clint asked blankly. He didn't like even the slightest possibility that he was right. In fact, he prayed that he was far from right.

"You picked a hell of a time to bring this up?" Natasha said bitterly.

"We aren't doing anything right now," Clint said looking at her. Natasha chuckled quietly and returned to what she was working on. "What are you even doing, right now?"

"Trying to breech the mainframe; make this whole mission a hell of a lot easier."

"How's that working out for," Clint asked.

"The security system is pretty advanced, but I think I almost got it," Natasha said. He figured her tongue was slipping out of her mouth as it often did when she was deep in concentration. "Okay, I'm in."

He could hear the bragging-tone seeping into her voice. Despite how distant the two had become, they somehow managed to push away the awkwardness. Being assassins, they had mastered the art of pushing away anything that was inconvenient; at the moment the truth was in the way.

"Damnit," Natasha muttered.

"What? What happened?"

Natasha didn't respond, instead he heard the sound of her gun clicking into its rightful place. "The bastards uploaded a virus onto my hard drive. Even I can't override it," she growled. He heard the sound of snow crunching under her boots as she hit the ground forty feet below. Clint dropped down next to her and clicked his bow into place.

"I'm going in," she hissed throwing her hair into a ponytail.

"Not without me your not," Clint said throwing his legs over the side of the branch. He landed not-so-gracefully next to her and opened his bow.

The two crept toward the warehouse and pressed their backs against a boulder crouching down. Clint peeked over and took in every detail of what surrounded them.

"Men on every corner?" Natasha whispered. He nodded and she smirked. "This'll be fun."

They sat there silently for a moment and he nodded. Natasha removed the safety on her gun and Clint pulled an arrow from his quiver. At the same time, they rose and started hitting the men guarding the building. Each shot landed right on its mark.

"Go," Natasha shouted as the guards approached them firing. "I'll keep them distracted."

Clint sprinted through the trees and into the building. Easily he took out the few men that stepped in his path. When he came upon the final room, he stopped pressing his ear to the locked door. Clint shot an arrow at the lock and it swung open easily.

"Sup," Clint said sending an arrow through the woman's chest. Before the man could click off the safety of his gun, there was an arrow lodged between his eyes. Clint set to work immediately. Although it took longer to get through than it would've for Natasha, it didn't take him long to break through the security passcodes. He pulled the hard drive out of his chest pocket and moved everything over. After every secret was uploaded, Clint removed the memory chip from the computer and stomped on it.

He lit up the office in flames and ran out of the building at an impossible pace.

"Widow, report," he said into the Comm. "Nat."

All he received in response was static.

* * *

Natasha had done pretty well holding her own. Unfortunately –after she assumed every man had been hit –she didn't hear the man's footsteps crunching behind her. She didn't notice him until her body was flooded with pain. Natasha didn't feel herself falling, but somehow her face connected with the snow-covered ground. Instinctively, she fired her gun randomly. Somehow, she hit the man straight in between his smug black eyes. He collapsed on the ground next to her, dead instantly.

She could hear Clint's voice over the Comm., but her mouth lost the ability to make as sound. Natasha pressed her hands to her right side. Her attempt to slow the flow of blood was futile. Warm blood ran through her fingers and her vision began to blur. Despite her deliria, she could've sworn she saw Clint's face form in front of her. Distantly, she heard his voice frantically calling her name. She couldn't fight the heaviness in her eyelids. Slowly, she felt herself slip into an embrace of darkness.

* * *

Clint saw her laying limply on the ground and ran toward her calling her name loudly. Her green eyes stared at him and he cold see the pain crying out on her face. There was a pool of her crimson blood melting the still-falling snow. Clint dropped onto the ground next to her continuing to call out her name. Her eyes fluttered shut and her faint grip on her side loosened.

Clint pulled off his vest and pressed it against Natasha's side. Her blood quickly saturated the piece of clothing and he pulled her up into his arms.

"Natasha," he cried. Her head lulled to the side and the rise and fall of her chest slowed. He felt the warm tears dripping onto his cheeks.

"Agent down," he coughed into his Comm.

"Medic team is on the way," Agent Jackson –their temporary handler- replied.

The team came up behind him and everything was a blur from there. It seemed like before he could comprehend what was happening, he was sitting in a medical room starring at Natasha's hand blankly. The even beeping of her heart monitor was the only sign that she was still alive. Her naturally pallid skin was ghostly white and her rosy lips were chapped and tinted blue.

Clint didn't acknowledge his team's entrance, instead continued to stare at his hands caked in _her_ blood.

"Is she gonna be okay," Bruce asked.

'They don't know," Clint whispered.

Steve noticed the blood on Clint's hands and was scared to ask. He simply suggested he take a shower and get some sleep. Reluctantly, he agreed and Bruce opted to drive him back to the Tower. That left Tony and Steve with the comatose Black Widow.

* * *

**Dramatic! What did you think? Please, review! **

**Love,**

**Kaylie**


	25. Chapter 25: Natalia Romanova

**I own nothing!**

* * *

Clint didn't want to leave, but the second he returned to the base, Fury shoved another mission file at him. There was nothing to say, but agree to go. So he went. The Hawk was on the quinjet when he got news of Natasha waking up. He was desperate to get 'home', but his temporary handler for this mission refused to pull him. According to the agent, they were not official partners anymore so he should not care. What was it with SHIELD agents not having emotion?

Natasha's heart monitor beeped rapidly and sweat was beading on her forehead. Tony shot out of his chair and walked over to the bed. He gripped onto her hand and she squeezed it back. Natasha's strangled coughs echoed through hospital room. Her eyes shot open and Tony got pushed out of the way by Dr. Stevens. A nurse pulled him out of the room and slammed the door in his face. Natasha was awake and he was the only on around. Steve was on the Helicarrier, Bruce barely left the lab, Bobbi could care less, Pepper couldn't step foot in the room without breaking down and Thor was in Asguard. Tony drove her home that night and the drive was silent. Natasha's head was pressed against the cold glass of the window and she had an oversized sweatshirt enveloping her body. She looked broken, but he couldn't figure out why.

Natasha was curled up on the couch tangled up in a blanket. She was using her arm as a pillow and in on hand, she was loosely holding onto a gun. The rise and fall of her chest was even and her breathing was soft. It appeared that she had fallen asleep watching TV. She had on a pair of navy blue sweat pants, white tank-top and mixed matched socks. Her flaming red hair –which had started to grow back –was matted against her face.

Tony walked into the living room and chuckled when he saw hi sleeping teammate. Silently, he tiptoed over to the sleeping assassin. He carefully removed the remote from her cold hands and flipped off the TV. Tony pulled the blanket off of her body and pulled the gun out of her grip. He placed it on the coffee table and lifted Natasha into his arms.

"Come on, Sleeping Beauty," he grunted shifting her so she was cradled bridal style in his arms. Natasha groaned leaning her head on his chest.

"I'm tired," Natasha grumbled.

"I know," Tony said.

"Thank you," Natasha whispered.

"Anytime, princess," Tony said lying her down gently on her bed.

"Don't leave me," Natasha whined. "Don't be like everyone else."

"I'm not leaving," Tony promised slightly confused.

Natasha sighed as a small smile spread onto her chapped lips. She muttered something incoherent and fell asleep almost immediately. Tony pulled the comforter over her body and left the room quietly.

The billionaire was greeted by a beaten and bruised Hawkeye. Clint was still in his ripped up uniform and was knocking back a bottle of water. Using the back of his hand, he wiped his mouth.

"What happened to you, Katniss," Tony asked grabbing a beer.

"Mutants," Clint breathed. "Apparently they don't take kindly to you trying to kill them.

Both men dropped onto the couch heaving sighs.

"Where's Nat?" Clint asked.

"Asleep," Ton replied taking a drag on his beer. "She's been acting really weird since she woke up."

'Ever been shot before, Stark?" Clint asked.

"No, Legolas," Tony said. "I've been shot at. Oh, and bombed."

"That's what I thought," Clint sighed.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

Clint didn't respond, instead he stood and walked down the hallway He pushed open Natasha's door and took in the girl curled up in front of him. She looked 'peaceful', in a way. Her red hair had grown out, but it was tangled. You could see the bandages through her skin-tight shirt and her skin was still paler that normal. The blue tint to her lips had faded, but like everything, they were not back to her trademark standards.

"Nat," he whispered crouching next to her bed. He pushed a few tangled strands of hair out of her face.

"Go away," she grumbled swatting blindly at his hand.

"You still owe me some explanation," Clint whispered.

"You know, your timing for these things is impeccable," Natasha replied sarcastically keeping her eyes closed.

"You're not getting out of this," Clint said.

"Fine," Natasha sighed moving over in her bed. "I swear to God, Barton, if you bleed in my bed, I will kill you."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Clint said kicking off his boots. He pulled the blanket up and climbed in next to Natasha pulling the covers on top of himself. His muscular arm wrapped around Natasha pulling her close to his body. Mindlessly, she traced shapes on his chest remaining silent. "What's been up with you lately?"

"Well, I got shot and was in a coma for two weeks," Natasha smiled.

"You know what I meant," Clint said.

"Yeah," Natasha sighed. "I know what you meant."

It was silent for a while, but for Natasha, it felt like hours. She was terrified; it was not in her plans for anyone to know the truth. The truth about Natalia Romanova, the girl she was. The past she buried back in Russia when Clint found her, saved her.

"Look, when I met you, I wasn't totally… honest."

"What?"

"I didn't tell you who I really was," Natasha said. Her mouth was dray and her mind was racing. She gulped down the lump forming in her throat. "The girl I was when I killed all of those me –when I was in the Red Room –I was Natalia Romanova."

It was silent before she continued.

"When I was six, I broke into the files. The name they believed my parents had given me was Natasha."

Silent tears were dripping down her cheeks and onto Clint's uniform. Natasha was amazed that her voice hadn't cracked and given away emotion.

"What else did you find?"

"Nothing," Natasha said voice cracking.

_Flashback_

_She wasn't sure what she was looking for, but she needed to know something, anything. At age six, Natalia knew very well that these men had sinister intentions. She had seen it first hand with the things they were forced to do. Somehow, she found herself standing in front of the locked oak door. Her nimble fingers fumbled with the hair clip and soon the door was swinging open. Looking both ways, Natalia crawled in._

_The office was dark, but Natalia's vision quickly adjusted. There was the bid desk that had been given in exchange for a beautiful blonde a year prior, the plush chairs stained with questionable things, the white carpet covered in numerous splotches of dried blood, the mahogany wardrobe holding Ivan's toys, and the peeling striped wall paper. In the back corner stood the tall metal filing cabinets holding the answers. Natalia scurried toward the cabinet quickly and dug through each drawer searching for her name. Natalia Romanova. There it was. She pulled the file out of the drawer and opened it. She read the first line below her name before she heard the key in the lock. The door creaked open and she could smell the liquor on him from across the room._

_Ivan was by her side in three large strides. He grabbed her by the collar and pulled off the ground so her bar-feet were dangling. The folder dropped from her hand and the papers flittered to the ground all over the room. She choked on the foul air he was puffing into her face._

_Natalia was dragged to a room down the hall she had been tossed into several times. The metal door slammed shut behind Ivan and she was slammed on the cement floor._

_He walked over to the shelf holding his torture toys as two nameless bald men chained her to the ground and removed her shirt. Ivan turned toward her with a greedy smile on his face bearing two weapons he favored. A whip and a dagger._

_A crack filled the room and a fire erupted on her bare back. One. Two. Three. The strikes continued and the blood dribbled off her body. The whip cracked several times. 157 times. By the time he finished, she was a mess of torn skin and blood. Natalia was fighting unconsciousness and the cries of pain. She watched as he unsheathed the dagger ad walked closer to her. Ivan's black eyes filled with the all-too-common darkness. The blade sliced through the soft skin on her arms and the back of her neck. The cuts weren't deep enough to kill, but precise enough to bite with venomous pain. Despite it all, there was a smug smile on her lips. She had accomplished her mission; she learned something. Natasha, that was who she was._

_End Flashback_

By now, Natasha was shaking with sobs. Even if she hadn't revealed everything she had to dig deep into her past to find it. She still had nightmares about it fourteen years later. The lash marks on her back healed and faded after the enhancers had been injected. The cut on her neck that was masked by her curls was still there. On off occasions, Clint had seen it, but knew not to ask. It was better not to ask about the scars and honestly it didn't matter anymore; that was her old life.

Clint's right hand was running up and down her back while the other hand snaked through her hair.

"I don't know how that doctor and his daughter knew that, but I panicked and shot him on spot. Not even Phil knew the whole story."

"Why did you leave?"

"The truth was coming out," Natasha lied. That wasn't the reason she ran away. Natasha bolted because of what she was starting to feel. Clint knew she was lying, he just wasn't sure why.

* * *

**I'm so sorry I didn't update for over a week, I was really busy. Please, review!**

**Love,**

**Kaylie**


	26. Chapter 26: Conceal and Run

**I DO NOT own the Avengers or Marvel!**

* * *

The annual SHIELD ball, Natasha hated it. She had gone once six years ago, but had avoided since. However, this year it was mandatory for her to be there with her teammates. Apparently, Bobbi was apart of the team much to the Widow's dismay. Fury had hired stylists to make sure she was actually wore a dress. And to top it all off, she was shaking a room with Bobbi and Pepper. Natasha had completely tuned out Bobbi's lecture on makeup as three women pulled at her hair and covered the scars.

"Done," one of them smiled.

Natasha stood and walked over to the full body mirror pushing past the gaping women in the room. On her body was a purple floor-length dress that revealed a lot more skin that she was comfortable with. It was low cut and there were two strips of fabric that wrapped around her body and connected to the waist of her dress. Her long hair was hanging down her back, but held out of her eyed by two waterfall braids on either side of her head.

"You look amazing, Natasha," Pepper gasped.

"I look like an easy target," Natasha replied blankly.

She grabbed her gun off the table and strapped it to her thigh. Eventually, the room emptied out and it was just her staring at herself in the mirror. She was impressed with the work they had accomplished. Somehow the stylists had managed to cover the bags under her eyes that she had earned over the recent months. The scars on her neck, face, shoulders and hips seemed to have disappeared. The lines and cuts from the stitches had been concealed by a mixture of makeup that Natasha figured cost as much as she made in a month.

But, something in her mind told her that she wasn't good enough. Bobbi was better, Clint had made that very clear. She was pretty, smart and normal. Natasha had voiced to everyone –but Clint –that she was a liability, but she was good for him. The blonde was stable and he needed something stable. Clint had never told her, but she figured he was tearing himself apart after everything that had happened.

There was a knock on the door and she could hear her teammates calling her name. Natasha shouted an 'I'm coming' and pushed the fears that slipped through the heavily guarded façade and smoothed out her dress. Quickly, Natasha pulled open the door and walked into the hallway earning the eyes of her entire team. She stuck her hand out in Steve's direction. He dug into his coat pocket and put the sheathed dagger in her palm. Natasha pulled up the hem of her dress and strapped it to her shoes. Then, she stuck her hand out toward Tony and he handed her three tiny bottles filled with a questionable green liquid. They all turned away as she shoved the poisons into her bra.

"Are you done arming yourself?" Thor smiled.

"Oh, don't worry, I have an extra clip duct taped under my dress," Natasha said fixing her dress.

"What do you think is going to happen?" Bruce asked.

"I don't know, that's the point," Natasha said shoving her hand toward the doctor.

"Now what?" Bobbi whined smoothing out her red dress.

"Lipstick," Natasha replied taking the tube from Bruce and smearing it on her lips. "Let's get this show on the road."

She shoved the lipstick into her bra and latched onto Steve's arm.

"Sorry, sweetheart," Tony started. "Fury's orders said that Merida over there is your escort."

Natasha rolled her eyes and stomped over to Clint.

"I don't have a disease, Nat," Clint said.

"Neither do I, but that doesn't mean anything to you," Natasha muttered.

"What?" Clint asked.

"Nothing," Natasha said with mock-cheer,

Steve pushed open the door and Natasha could've sworn Bobbi shot her a glare. Natasha stuck her tongue out at her as they walked into the ballroom. Thor was partnered with Jane Foster much to the Demigod's pleasure. Bruce was with Darcy and Natasha could've sworn something was brewing there. Pepper was with Tony –obviously –and the Widow noticed the diamond on the blonde's finger glinting in the light. A fuming Bobbi had been paired with Steve who wore a blank expression as his 'partner' continued to glare.

Natasha could hear music and laughter from the hallway making her dread it even more. After the eyes in the room had pulled away from the group, the jittery red-head made a beeline for the bar. This was going to be a long night.

* * *

Clint saw Natasha from across the room and felt jealously coursing through his veins. She was standing extremely close to Steve and was laughing loudly. Their foreheads were pressed together and both were smiling widely. The Hawk was getting dragged around the dance floor by his 'loving' girlfriend. Despite the 'talk' the partners had a few weeks prior, they were seemingly growing further and further apart.

"What's wrong, baby," Bobbi asked sweetly.

"Nothing," Clint lied.

"Let's go sit down," Bobbi suggested grabbing onto her boyfriend's hand and leading him toward their table.

* * *

Natasha limped toward the bar and plopped onto a stool next to a half-drunken Tony Stark who slid her a shot glass smirking. She knocked it back easily and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand.

"You okay, Princess," Tony asked.

"Totally," she lied.

Tony shot her a 'bullshit' look and she shrugged knocking back another shot.

"Where's Lover boy?"

"Steve is in the bathroom."

"Not Steve."

"Then, who were you referring to?"

"Katniss."

"Why would I know where _Clint_ is?"

Tony smirked taking a sip of his drink.

"I don't love him," Natasha yelled.

"Who said anything about love/" Tony asked.

"Love is for children."

"So you keep saying."

"Love is a game that I don't have time to play. It's a liability and it makes you so stupid things."

Tony shook his head chuckling.

"What?" Natasha demanded.

"Nothing," Tony smiled.

Natasha turned and skimmed through the crowd of hr co-workers. They all still hated hr no matter what she did in New York. Her eyes landed on hr old partner. At first, she caught the glint of his stormy gray eyes. He was sitting at the table with Pepper and _Bobbi_ smiling fakely.

"Wanna dance, Stark," Natasha smiled.

"I don't dance, Romanoff."

"I am heavily armed do not argue with me."

Tony sighed and set his empty glass down. Chuckling, he grabbed Natasha's outstretched hand and followed her to the floor. . Natasha rested on hand on Tony's neck and the other one in his hand. Her teammate's hand rested on her waist and he smiled at her.

"So, about that ring," Natasha said.

"You already noticed?" Tony asked incredulously.

"I'm an assassin, of course I already noticed."

"I don't know why I even try to keep secrets from you and Clint."

"We are _paid_ to notice the small things."

"Can I cut in," Clint asked tapping Natasha on the shoulder.

"Go ahead," Tony said turning to walk away.

"Wait," Natasha said pulling off her shoes.

"What?" Tony asked looking at her.

Natasha stuffed her heels in Tony's pocket and smiled.

"Okay, you can go."

Tony walked away muttering something under his breath and Natasha figured it would've made Steve blush. Just as Natasha was turning to face Clint the Tango came on and she had to smile. The two moved across the floor bodies pressed together. Natasha caught a glimpse of Bobbi's venomous glare from across the room, but couldn't have cared less.

"You know the last time I tangoed," Natasha started. "It was with a guy twice my age that I killed while he was sleeping. He wasn't that goof on the dance floor or in bed."

Somehow, Natasha's mind started to reel and she was there, again. With Clint in her old room on the Helicarrier both lacking clothes and in a compromising position.

_His hot breath was traveling across her body as he placed teasing kisses all over her pale skin. Clint's lips hovered over every scar and kissed them gently. Then, it was Natasha's turn. Carefully, they rolled over and she was on top of him. She dropped a chaste kiss on his raw lips. Natasha moved her lips to his jaw and sucked on the skin behind his ear eliciting a throaty moan. Seductively, she planted kisses down his chest and over his sculpted abdomen. _

_"Natasha," he groaned._

_She smirked as she pulled herself up to her partners face and kissed him as he flipped them._

The song ending drew Natasha out of memory lane and she pulled away from her partner blushing. She looked at him for a second and he could see her green eyes searching for something, anything, not even she was sure what for. Natasha stumbled into a step away from him and full out sprinted out of the room muttering some excuse in slurred Russian.

"Natasha," he called. But, it was useless, she was already gone.

* * *

**This is my peace offering for forgetting to update in over a week. Please, review or PM me. **


	27. Chapter 27: Horribly Wrong

**I'd like to take the time to thank anyone who has reviewed so far -so- thank you! **

**I DO NOT own the Avengers or Marvel!**

* * *

"Natasha," Steve called running through the dark halls of the SHIELD base. "Where are you?"

It was silent other than the faint music echoing down the dark hallway. Steve saw her and he slowed approaching her. Natasha's back was pressed to the wall and her knees had been pulled to her chest. She was staring ahead with no sign of emotion on her face. But her eyes were filled with undefined emotions that seemed so foreign on the Widow's face. Natasha looked terrified and lost. Something about her was shattered and that was not apart of the Widow's MO.

"What am I doing?" Natasha asked.

Steve plopped down on the ground next to her and put his arm around her.

"What happened?"

"I don't know," Natasha admitted. "I was dancing with him and then, I was back… I was seventeen again and…"

"What?" Steve asked softly rubbing her arm.

"I slept with him. After a mission went wrong, we slept together."

"You love him, don't you?"

"Love is for chi-."

"Don't say it," Steve said. "I want the truth."

"I don't know," Natasha said. "I don't do love, but what I feel is something."

"I think you do."

"So does Stark," Natasha said leaning her head on Steve's shoulder. "What difference does it make, he's with Bobbi? She's good for him. And according to Tony, I'm with you."

"You _did_ kiss me," Steve chuckled.

"I did, I guess I was desperate," Natasha smiled. She started chuckling before continuing. "Besides, it was like kissing my brother."

"That hurts, Widow," Steve joked. "Can I ask you a question?"  
"Depends," Natasha said.

"At Coulson's funeral, why did you sit on the balcony in the back of the church?"

Sighing, she continued. "It's obvious I don't exactly work well with emotions, and I didn't want anyone to see me if I did react like well –a normal person. Coulson, he was the closest thing I had to a father. Phil and Clint were the only family I had and when I left, I figured that would be the end of it. It wasn't, he was always popping up at random times. I think you and Fury were the only one's who actually knew I was at the funeral even if only for ten minutes."

Steve pressed a kiss on her forehead and rose to his feet sticking his hands out in Natasha's direction. She grabbed his hands and pulled herself up. Steve lead her back to the ballroom and to their table. The whole team was there by the time they go back and Natasha plopped down in her seat between Steve and Clint. The food was already at the table and she just pushed the mixture of 'fancy' food around her plate.

* * *

The ball had gone pretty well from the dinner, until an army of _something_ broke through the glass walls on the side of the room and started firing at everyone with some sort of weapon. Natasha pulled the gun she had taped under the table out and tossed it to Steve. Clint and Natasha both pulled their guns out of their concealed holsters and ran straight toward the squadron.

"Cap, get everyone out of here," Natasha shouted. "We'll keep them busy."

"What are these things?" Clint asked.

"Like I would know," Natasha said. "I plan to find out though."

Natasha shot several rounds stepping closer and closer to the creatures.

"Cap, report," Natasha said turning on her Comm.

"Everyone's out, but I can't find-," Steve stopped short.

"Who are you missing?" Natasha barked.

"Bobbi," Steve said.

"Shit," Natasha muttered. Then, she heard a shrill blood curdling scream come from across the room. Obviously, it was Bobbi, 'cause who else would it be? The woman was surrounded by a group of maybe ten or eleven aliens –that's what Natasha decided they were. "Found her."

"Where is she?"

"Do you really want to know?"

Steve was silent.

"I got her. Do you know when Tony's getting here?"

"Give him about two minutes."

"Perfect."

Natasha climbed up the curtain in front of the shattered window and tangled her feet in the thick material. She let go and dangled upside down swinging the curtain back and forth. With nimble fingers, she reloaded her gun and clipped off the safety. She shot at an alien and it fell to the ground with a thud. From a distance, Natasha continued to pick off the creatures surrounding a very hysterical Bobbi. Natasha couldn't tell if she was full out sobbing or cracking up where she stood, but either way, she had lost it.

Unfortunately, another squadron noticed her and started firing at her.

"Der'mo," Natasha grumbled grabbing onto the balcony as she swung over and throwing herself over the banister. She landed on the floor with a thud and rolled out of the way narrowly missing a several shots from a group.

"Stark, are you here yet?" Natasha asked into the Comm.

"On my way, Princess," Tony replied. "What's the damage?"

"Well, it's me and Clint in the ballroom. All of the other agents ran off, Steve is getting the civilians out. And, oh, I forgot to mention, Bobbi is still in here surrounded by a squadron."

"You got a plan?"

"Of course I have a plan, but it kinda involves you."

"Well, at least someone's got an idea."

Natasha explained her plan as she shot down several more aliens. She screeched a 'wait for my signal' into the Comm. and jumped over the banister. With a death grip, she grabbed onto a banner and slid down.

She crept closer to the group blocking Bobbi and dropped down onto her hands and knees. Natasha pulled the hair clip out of her hair –a present from Coulson for her sixteenth birthday –and pulled off the metal guard revealing the hallow tip filled with a purple liquid. She pierced through the soft spot left uncovered by the armor and clicked the center of the flower sending the poisonous liquid into its bloodstream. Quickly, she pulled it out and put the tip back on shoving it back in her hair. The alien fell with a loud thud that made Natasha cringe. All attention was drawn to her and she frantically started firing as the black goop that must've been their blood splattered against her.

"Now," Natasha screamed into the Comm. She grabbed Bobbi's arm and dragged the blubbering girl toward a curtain. Impatiently, she instructed her to climb onto her back which Bobbi did sobbing. Natasha pulled them both up the curtain hissing through the strain of her muscles.

Stark crashed through the last intact window and started firing at the aliens following the two girls. They collapsed on the ground of the balcony and Natasha pulled a gun out the column next to them –she stashed weapons everywhere.

"Hold this," Natasha said giving it to her. She pulled an extra clip out of her dress and tossed it at her before firing at a squadron approaching her. "And do _not _move or I'll shoot you in the leg."

Natasha sprinted away firing.

"Where the hell are the other agents?" Natasha demanded into her Comm.

"Aliens aren't exactly in their training, Agent Romanoff," Fury said into the Comm.

"It wasn't in mine either," Natasha mumbled to herself. "Cap, Bobbi's on the balcony with a gun."

"On it, Widow," Steve replied

"Hawkeye, I need eyes," Natasha said throwing a dagger into the forehead of an alien approaching her.

"Already on it," Clint said. "What happened to your dress?"

"Are you really asking that?" Natasha asked snapping and alien's neck then using him to block a shot. "Where's Thor?"

"Right behind you," Clint said.

"Is Banner out of the building?" Natasha asked.

"He was evacuated with Pepper and Jane," Tony said.

"Is Blondie out?" Natasha asked.

"Hey, she has a name," Clint said.

"Yeah, she's out."

"Where's the gun?"

"In the vase on the table by the door."

"Copy that."

Natasha sent one last dagger into the heart of an alien and sprinted toward the door. She grabbed her gun and turned around cracking a skull with the butt. Sprinting, she ran straight toward a squadron and had them all down in less than thirty seconds.

"Hawk, how many left?" Natasha breathed heavily.

"Thirty approaching you, seventy in the room and that must've been a new personal record for you."

"I've done better," Natasha said. Her shriek echoed through the room as she felt a blade run across her arm. The blood didn't bother her and she pushed the pain to the back of her mind as she kicked her opponent in the throat collapsing his windpipes.

"That's gonna need stitches," Natasha hissed. Everything became a blur as the battle was coming to an end. Adrenaline was pumping through her veins and she was covered in black muck. Her dress was destroyed and she was bleeding pretty badly.

"That's all of them," Clint said and she could see him climbing down from his perch.

Natasha sighed and dropped to her knees breathing heavily. "Status report."

"Good," Tony said.

"Thor and I are fine. A few bruises, but nothing serious" Steve said.

"Natasha?" Clint said.

"Cracked ribs, in need of stitches, and possibly a broken nose," Natasha replied wiping blood off of her face.

"How did you manage to get injured so," Thor boomed through Steve's Comm.

"Ever fought in a dress? It get's in the way _a lot."_

"Do you need a medic team?" Steve asked.

"Do I have a choice?" Natasha asked. "Couldn't I just take care of it myself?"

"Give yourself stitches?" Steve asked.

"I do it all the time," Natasha said.

"That doesn't make me feel any better," Steve said.

"I'm doing it on my own," Natasha spat limping out of the room.

* * *

Clint walked into the pent house with the team on his tail. He dropped his jacket on the back of the couch and walked down to the bathroom. Natasha was sitting on the counter with bloody gauze scattered around her and a first aid kit emptied all over the floor. Her dress was torn up and covered in blood. She was biting down on her lip as she blotted at the stitched up cut on her arm with gauze drenched in rubbing alcohol. Natasha's whimper sounded through the bathroom as he closed the door a pulled the gauze out of her hand. Clint pushed her chin up so she was looking at him in the eye.

"What happened back there?" Clint asked.

"I don't need help," Natasha stated looking down at her hands.

"I know you don't need it, but its okay to ask for it sometimes."

"I don't _want_ your help," Natasha hissed looking at him straight in the eyes. Anger was taking over her emerald orbs and she glowered at him. "You don't care about me."

"What makes you think that?" Clint demanded.

"You deserted me!" Natasha shouted hopping off of the counter.

"Last time I checked, _you're_ the one who left me for three years with no explanation."

"Are you seriously still on that, I was seventeen?!"

"What difference does that make? You left and you accuse me of deserting you?"

"You act like I have some contagious disease, ever since New York! It's like you can see who I really am and you can't bear to be around me."

"Get over yourself, the world doesn't revolve around you, Natasha."

"I know it doesn't!" Natasha screamed yanking open the bathroom door and slamming it behind her. Her team could hear her stomping down the hallway and they all cringed at the sound of her door slamming.

She ripped the shredded dress off her body and collapsed on her bed face first. Natasha tugged at the covers and pulled them over her body. Almost immediately, she was asleep.

* * *

**What did you guys think? Please review or PM me!**

**Love,**

**Kaylie**


	28. Chapter 28: Winter Air

**I'm so sorry this update took so long! I went on a last minute vacation before school started and I got back Thursday night. Then, I had to finish my Pre- AP English assignment 'cause I procrastinated all summer. Again, I apologize.**

**I DO NOT own Marvel or the Avengers!**

* * *

Clint lay awake, staring at the ceiling. Moonlight was streaming in through the window and the only sound that could be hear was the hum of the heater. Sighing, he threw the blankets off his body and flung his legs over the side of the bed. 2:34; far later than any normal person should've been up. Just another night where nightmares haunted him every time he closed his eyes. Silently, Clint tip-toed down the hallway and toward the living room.

He felt the cold air before he saw her sitting on the window sill. The window was open and her feet dangled over the city. Natasha's hair was being pushed back by the wind causing the locks like actual flames licking her cold-bitten rosy cheeks. There was a thin blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Natasha could hear Clint approaching, but she didn't acknowledge him.

"Couldn't sleep?" Clint asked sitting next to her. She nodded keeping her eyes plastered on the outside world. Why was he talking to her, hadn't they just fought two hours ago? Even before she left, they had gone days, weeks, even months after they fought –sometimes over the smallest nothings.

"Every time I close my eyes," Natasha whispered blankly. "I'm on the Helicarrier again and Loki is yelling at me, threatening me. It's like he brought back all those things I had somehow buried."

"I watched the security footage, you know Loki was wrong, right?"

"That's what everyone keeps saying," Natasha said. "Why are you up?"

"You know, I wanted to kill you," Clint said.

"That wasn't you, Clint that was Loki."

"That look on your face, you were terrified and it was my fault."

"I was _terrified_ because you saw who I really _am_. There was nothing blinding you from the truth. I wasn't a kid who deserved a second chance, I was a murderer. I _am_ a murderer."

"Nat," Clint said touching her shoulder.

Natasha flinched at his touch and for the first time in almost four years, he saw her vulnerability in her sparkling green eyes. There were tear stains streaming down her cheeks and fresh tears glazed her eyes. This couldn't be the Natasha he knew, could it?"

"Don't tell me I'm not," Natasha said. "Everyone knows it. Why the hell do you think the other agents are scared of me? They know what I've done. You were sent to kill me because SHIELD –an international protection agency –saw _me_ as a threat when I was _fourteen_. Like hell I'm not a murderer."

"You _were _a murderer," Clint said.

"God Damnit, Clint. The innocent blood is still on my hands. What makes you so sure we aren't murderers? Just because we work for the 'good guys' doesn't make the fact that we are killers any better."

"Why are you listening to Loki?"

"Why do you blame it on yourself?" Natasha countered turning to stare him down.

"Because_ I_ made it all possible; _I_ got them onto the Helicarrier, _I _killed those agents, _I _helped kill _Coulson, I_ tried to kill _you."_

"That wasn't you," Natasha insisted balling up her fists at her side. She was stifling the urge to make physical contact with this man she didn't want to love.

"But it was me, I couldn't fight _him; I _ wasn't strong enough."

" But _I_ do," Clint stated looking at her with desperation storming in his in his gray eyes.

"Clint, you can't beat yourself up for what happened. It happened and you can't change that; no one can change that."

Natasha could've sworn that a few tears were trickling down his cheeks. Her suspicions were confirmed when he wiped at his face roughly with the back of his hand and blinked rapidly. Agent Clint Barton didn't cry. _Never._ The only time she could remember seeing him cry was when she almost died back in Berlin.

"I know you blew off that shrink," Natasha stated.

"How?"

"Fury told me, he said you went to a few and the guy brought up my name and you stopped showing up."

"I know you didn't even go at all."

"I didn't need some guy to tell me that I had issues, I didn't need a nerd holding a notebook to tell me something I already knew."

"Everyone has issues, Nat?"

"Not like this," Natasha scoffed.

"What ever happened to that leather notebook you used to carry in your belt when I first… met you?"

"I thought about burning it…several times, but I keep it locked up in my closet out of _Stark's _reach."

"That man may be a genius, but sometimes I think he's too smart for his own good."

"He just has too much time on his hands."

A blanket of silence settled over the two and –for the first time in a long time –the silence was comfortable. It didn't suffocate Natasha, it was just there and it was familiar –she hadn't noticed how much she missed it.

"Did you notice the ring on Pepper's finger," Natasha asked tearing her gaze away from the bustling city outside the window.

"Yeah, I didn't say anything about it," Clint said.

"I asked Tony about it and he went into a huge lecture on how nothing got past us the two of us."

Clint looked at her and she could feel his eyes studying her every inch. He couldn't believe how amazing she looked even in this ratty, distraught state. It was kind of sexy the way her red hair was falling out of the sloppy braid draped over the side of her shoulder, how her green pajama pants with blue squares set low on her waist line revealing the top of her black lacy underwear, the see through, skin tight tank top that revealed her bra and several inches of midriff, the fact that she wasn't wearing makeup and continued to look breathtakingly beautiful with her ghost white skin and her rosy lips and how she sat like she was independent. If he knew it wasn't a deadly idea, Clint might have told her what he was thinking or, maybe, even act upon the desire he was struggling to contain.

* * *

Natasha's eyes fluttered open and she rubbed at them. The sun was coming in with the early morning air through the open window. She could feel the familiar sensation of Clint's arms wrapped around her body. Her cheek was pressed against his bare chest and the steady rise of his chest was hypnotizing. It couldn't have been more than two or three hours later because the sun was just beginning to make an appearance in the crimson colored sky. There were chills dancing up and down her spine and she wasn't sure whether it was the winter air crashing against her bare skin or Clint's warm breath against her face. She feared it was the latter.

Despite the compromising position they were in, Natasha cuddled closer to him marveling at the warmth shooting through her veins. Clint shifted so he was holding her closer and his eyes fluttered open. His lips spread into a small smile and he looked at her. Blushing, Natasha pulled away and fell onto the carpet lacking her usual grace. She stumbled to her feet and ran down the hall. Clint winced when he heard the slamming of her bedroom door.

He sighed standing up and walked toward the kitchen. Unfortunately, it was turn to make breakfast much to his –and the team's –dismay. Clint was a wreck in the kitchen and everyone knew that. He could make pasta and… well… that was pretty much it. Anything else usually ended up being a lump of inedible charred something.

Before Natasha had left, she would tease him about how hopeless he was. He would fire back something about how she wasn't much better which usually earned him a bitter 'at least I didn't catch oatmeal on fire.'

* * *

"So, explain to me exactly what we're doing," Natasha said shoving her carryon into the overhead compartment.

"We're going on a vacation, all of us," Pepper said.

"And why is it to some tourist destination in the middle of an ocean," Clint asked reaching over Natasha and easily placing both hers along with his and Bobbi's 'shared' bag.

"It's a tropical island," Pepper corrected. "And it had an amazing beach."

"Great," Bruce said nervously. He obviously wasn't happy about flying in a plane, anything could go wrong in the air.

"Jane, do you know where I have placed my Poptarts?" Thor asked digging through his backpack. Jane –who had moved into the tower after the ball –sighed and pulled out a small package from her purse.

Natasha plopped into the seat between Bruce and Steve pulling her phone out of her jean jacket pocket.

Pepper –who had ended up dressing her like she was a child –had insisted on her wearing something relatively nice. It was just a pair of leather riding boots, a white sundress with a faded jean jacket. There was a small waterfall braid in her hair and minimal makeup smeared involuntarily onto her face. She was uncomfortable and it was obvious to her team. Stark had cracked a few jokes earning an elbow in the gut from his angry fiancée. Steve, Thor and Bruce had complimented her often which received an eye roll from the woman herself. Clint had taken one look at her and flat out burst into hysterical laughter clutching his stomach.

Not that Natasha would ever admit it, but a mixture of hurt and rejection spread through her body. The feeling grew stronger when Bobby stepped in the car wearing a similar outfit and she got a kiss on the cheek from the Hawk. Natasha seethed the entire car ride to the airport.

Natasha looked across the isle on the plane to see Bobby wrapped in Clint's arms with her head leaning on his chest. Natasha sighed plugging her headphones over her ears and played her music as loud as it would go. Blocking out the world, she closed her eyes leaning her head back against the head rest. This was going to be a long trip and she knew from the beginning that it was _not_ going to end well.

* * *

**I know that chapter was a little all over the place, but it was very crucial to the fic. Like always, I expect reviews or PMs. Also, my Baby Daddy fic has gone a really long time without my attention. The reason being that I lack ideas for that story, so if you have any ideas I'll write them and dedicate the one-shot to you. **

**Love,**

**Kaylie**

**3**


	29. Chapter 29: Utter Desperation

**I don't own anything!**

* * *

Natasha tied the straps on her swimsuit and pulled on a pair of jean shorts. Pepper had shoved a black bikini into her suitcase when she wasn't looking and pulled out the purple one piece Natasha had packed for herself. That left her no other choice, but to wear the revealing swimsuit and keep her mouth shut about it.

She grabbed her drawstring bag out of the closet and started shoving things in quickly. A gun, a few extra clips, a dagger, her phone, a towel, sun screen and a gray zip-up hoodie. Throwing the bag over her shoulder, Natasha put on her sunglasses and stepped into her flip flops on her way out the door. She met her team in the lobby and they all walked to the beach keeping up small talk. Natasha didn't play into the banter, instead, she remained in her own world. For some reason, Natasha felt self-conscious. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she was aware of how much her scars stood out against her pale skin. The way her skin was pulled tightly over her bones revealing her ribs. Natasha couldn't help but notice that Bobbi's body wasn't covered in scars and you couldn't see her bones through her tan skin. No wonder Clint liked her so much, she wasn't battered, tattooed and beaten. No, Bobbi was perfect and Natasha just wasn't.

The group arrived on the beach and set out their towels. Natasha pulled her sunscreen out of her bag and began lathering it on her milky white skin.

"What's that symbolize?" Tony asked refering to the the number 2991 tattooed just above her waistline.

"There were two thousand nine hundred ninety-one girls that came before me," Natasha said glancing over to Clint who wasn't giving the conversation a single thought.

"Before you for what?" Bobbi asked innocently.

"To be kidnapped and raised to for the sole purpose to kill. To watch other girls be forced to do despicable things. To be evaluated and learn how to survive because that's the only choice. To kill or be killed," Natasha replied with the darkness seeping into her tone. They all knew it was the truth, nothing that bad could be made up. Clint –who had listened intently after Bobbi became curious –was staring at Natasha with the blank scowl on his face that had previously been reserved for missions.

Natasha put her sunglasses back on and sat down on her towel. "What?" She asked feeling them all look at her. Natasha received a series of muttered 'nothings' as they all followed suit laying next to her on their own towels.

* * *

Clint would be lying if he said he didn't notice how the swimsuit Natasha was wearing didn't make him feel things he knew he shouldn't be feeling. Not when he carried a ring in his back pocket that was meant for another woman. Even though he felt something even stronger for Natasha that he would never say was love. Love didn't exist, not for them. Maybe he told Bobbi he loved her and she said it back, but he knew he was lying.

* * *

"I can't believe I agreed to this," Natasha grumbled walking to her door and yanking it open angrily. Her heels clacked against the hardwood floor of the hallway. Being the night before they returned to New York, they –Pepper –picked a nice resturant on the other side of the island. The dress code –much to Natasha's displeasure –was coat and tie, which meant a nice dress and shoes that hurt more than being stabbed. Surprisingly, they were all waiting for her when she got to the lobby.

"What took you so long?" Tony joked.

"I had to zip myself into this dress," Natasha hissed.

"But you look amazing,"Pepper smiled.

It was true; the black dress hugged her curves and outlined her body perfectly. It reached mid-thigh and was paired with a pair of black pumps that were killing Natasha. Her hair was pulled back in a bun with a few flaming locks framing her face. Her face was blank, hiding the feelings boiling in her stomach. She was jealous, there was no escaping that, not that she was happy about it –the Black Widow never got envious. Natasha could see the outline of what could only be a ring box in Clint's jean pocket. She would've found it funny that he was wearing jeans to a resturant like the one they were going to if it wasn't like a bullet to the chest whenever she looked at him.

"Are we gonna go or not?" Natasha asked.

They made their way to the car and the ride to the resturant was nothing but awkward. Bobbi was the only one to say anything, but no one –not even Clint –was listening.

"Did you hear that the counsil is assigning us a new handler?" Natasha asked cutting the blonde's shpeel about something petty mid-sentence.

"Yeah," Tony said. "Some woman fresh out of training, never been in the field and never killed anyone."

"Fury said she wants our paperwork on…. New York," Natasha said. Steve couldve sworn he could hear the slight hint of her voice cracking when she mentioned _New York_, but no one said anything.

"Beautiful," Clint muttered.

"I don't even remember what happened in New York," Bruce said.

"And none of us want to remember what happened," Clint added.

The conversation broke off and the team sat in silence for the remainder of the car ride. Plastering on fake smiles, they stepped out of the car and walked slowly into the resturant. Natasha –mush to her dismay –sat between Clint and Pepper.

* * *

The food arrived, but Natasha just picked at the pasta on her plate. It was just like everything else 'group related' the team took part in, Natasha only half-listened too distracted to do anything else. It was the spy in her that kept her mind reeling, her attention taking in everything around her. The way Pepper and Tony sat so close in proximity, how Clint was holding Bobbi's hand 'discreetly' under the table, the way Jane was practically sitting on Thor's lap and how Steve and Bruce were chatting about something stupid Tony had done in the lab awhile back. Like always, Natasha was the odd one out.

"Natasha, are you okay?" Pepper asked whispering quietly.

"Yeah," Natasha lied putting her fork down. "Just a little tired."

The Widow rose to her feet and choked out some unbelievable excuse before walking toward the bathroom. Turning on the water, Natasha put her hands on the counter and looked at herself with scrutany in the mirror.

"What's going on," Natasha whimpered to herself. She had never been so desperate in her life.

* * *

**What did you think? Please review! I swear that when I get into the routine of school, I'll update more often. **

**Love,**

**Kaylie**


	30. Chapter 30: I've Been Expecting You

**I own nothing!**

* * *

Natasha looked herself over in the mirror. Today was the day of the wedding. Pepper and Tony's. Much to her relief, Clint hadn't popped the question. It had been over a year since New York and Natasha was still terrified to close her eyes. This was just something to keep her mind off of the ghosts looming around her. Somehow –only God new why –Natasha was Pepper's maid of honor. Natasha had tried to convince her to pick Bobbi or Jane, but Pepper only smiled at her and shook her head.

So, that's why she was staring at herself in a full length mirror in a fancy hotel room she was sharing with Pepper and the other bridesmaids. The bridesmaids' dresses matched the maroon roses in Pepper's bouquet.

The dress draping over her body reached to the floor and hugged her curves tightly. The straps were thin and the sweet-heart neck line hung low on her chest. Her feet were strapped into a pair of strappy black heels that lacked her usual weapon. Natasha had a loaded gun strapped to her inner thigh and extra clips shoved in her cleavage.

"How do I look," Pepper asked stepping into Natasha's sight.

Natasha turned smiling at the bride; she really was beautiful. The long white dress flowed out at the waist and brushed the ground when she walked. The bodice was beaded and the dress was strapless. Pepper's long blonde wavy hair was thrown over one shoulder.

"You look amazing," Natasha gasped.

"You really think so?" Pepper asked looking down at her dress.

"Yeah," Natasha smiled.

"Ladies, it's time," someone said from behind the door.

Pepper sighed loudly and the women scurried out of the room and down the hallway. They could hear the sound of chatter through the thick oak doors keeping them out of sight of the guests.

Jane went first. Then, Bobbi. And lastly, Natasha stood at the door waiting for her signal. She plastered on the biggest smile she could manage and clasped the white bouquet in her hands. Her steps down the aisle were light and slow –like the angry wedding planner had demanded.

Clint watched her from his spot next to Tony carefully, discreetly. Natasha's curly red hair was lying loosely around her shoulders. There was a smile on her face that he hadn't seen for almost five years. Her green eyes were illuminated by the rare presence of makeup on her face. The maroon dress on her body looked amazing against the pale contrast of her white skin. His eyes continued to wander over her body and the smile on his face widened.

* * *

"You look nice, Nat," Clint said.

Natasha looked up at him the smile on her face fading. "What do you want, Birdbrain?" Natasha asked.

"Why do I have to want something?" Clint asked sitting down in the chair next to her. She shot him a 'bull shit' look and he heaved a sigh. "You're the only one here who hasn't danced once tonight."

"And you're point is?" Natasha asked finishing off her glass of wine.

"Get up off your sorry ass and get on that floor before I have to hold that gun strapped to your leg to your head."

"You know, threatening me won't get you anywhere," Natasha said matter of factly.

"Tash," Clint pushed on.

"Fine," she heaved standing up and brushing off her dress in one swift motion. Natasha brushed a fly away strand of hair out of her face and kicked aside her shoes. Clint stuck her hand in her direction and she reluctantly took it.

They were pressed close together, hands clasped weakly, but they couldn't have looked more natural together. The way they moved together seemed far too easy. Bobbi hated it.

"You know Bobbi is mentally killing me right now, right?" Natasha said evenly.

"Are you worried," Clint teased.

"Hilarious."

The song ended, but they didn't pull away.

"Fury sent me a message this morning, they're sending us somewhere. The whole team," Natasha said.

"Where to?" Clint asked.

"He wouldn't say, but he said it was high-risk."

"How high risk?" Clint asked.

"High civilian loss of life already and the numbers are still rising. Located in a major city where citizens will get in out way."

"Gotta love a good challenge," Clint sighed.

This time, when the song ended, the two pulled away and returned to their allotted tables. From a distance, Natasha saw Clint watching her not so discreetly.

"I saw you two dancing," Pepper smiled sitting down in the chair next to Natasha.

"And?" Natasha asked stabbing a piece of chicken with her fork.

"Do you still love him?" Pepper asked. "And don't give me that 'Love is for children' shit."

"I don't do_ love_," Natasha said. She looked over at the blonde. "But, the closest I've ever come to it was with him."

"What do you mean _with him_?" Pepper asked.

Natasha looked at her with a 'you know what I mean' look and knocked back her beer. Pepper's mouth dropped open and she squealed an incredulous 'no.'

"I don't need the whole world knowing," Natasha hissed.

"When?" Pepper asked in a loud whisper.

"I was seventeen," Natasha sighed. "A mission went wrong and I was desperate. I left less than two months later."

Natasha took another drag on her drink.

"Why did you leave?"

"What I was feeling, it isn't safe in my line of work. I got scared. My past was catching up to me and I told myself I was protecting him. I was lying to myself. I was protecting myself; I was being a child."

"You were a child," Pepper said. "Seventeen is still a child."

Natasha chuckled taking another sip. She had never been a child; her childhood had been devoted to merciless training and grueling punishment. She had the scars to prove it; mental and physical. The nightmares, the faint marks on her skin, the triggers in her mind, all of it from a past Clint didn't even know much about. Keeping so much from him was her way of protecting him, keeping him out of the cross-fire if Ivan ever found her.

* * *

"Where the hell are we going?" Tony asked dragging his feet into the SHIELD base lobby.

"Stark, none of us want to be here right now, so quit whining," Steve said.  
"I'm pretty sure out very own master assassins want to be here and none of you are supposed to be on your honeymoon," Tony said.

"Oh, shut up, Stark. You sound like a girl," Natasha said throwing her duffle bag over her shoulder. Her hair was thrown back and her clothes were crumpled. There were dark lenses in the sunglasses on her face. She was obviously hung over.

"Did somebody skip they're morning trip to the coffee maker?" Tony teased.

"No," Clint said. "She drank a whole pot herself. Little Miss Vodka over here drank Thor under the table at the wedding last night."

"As impressing as that is," Fury boomed stepping in front of the team. "That is not a good enough excuse as to why your asses are not in conference room B."

* * *

"So what's the game plan," Tony asked through the Comm.

The team standing behind a pile of rubble weapons drawn and already running out of options. Grime was smeared on their faces and dried blood was caked onto their uniforms. There was a jagged cut piercing through Natasha's skin that looked painful. Tony's iron man suit was running out of energy. Clint was running low on arrows. The Hulk –who had been accidentally unleashed –was no where to be found. Steve was running out of ideas and Thor needed medical attention desperately. The bodies littered in the set-ablaze streets hadn't gone unnoticed by any of them.

"We need to make a distraction and keep their attention on something else while someone goes in and take out the leader and the mainframe," Steve said.

"I'll go in, Thor, I need a light show. Something flashy," Natasha said.

"Are you sure?" Steve asked. "This could be dangerous."

"I'm counting on it," Natasha said.

"Nat," Clint pleaded. "You don't have to do this."

"_Yes_, I do," Natasha stated. Her eyes were pleading and suddenly Clint understood what this was about.

"Natasha, if this is about your ledger; forget it."

"So what if it is?" Natasha asked shoving a new clip into her gun. "It's my decision, not _yours."_

"If you do this, it's not gonna make any of it go away; the nightmares are still going to be there."

"This isn't about nightmares, Clint."

"Guys, I get that you're fighting the urge to rip each other's clothes off and go at it like rabbits," Stark said. "But, we don't have time to deal with this right now."

Natasha shot him a look that could kill before backing away from the group. Her eyes pleaded something desperate to Clint for a split second, and then she was sprinting away from them.

The halls of the building were lit aflame with the fire tearing through the streets. The flames were licking at her skin, but she was desperate. None of them new it and she would go to the end of the Earth to keep it from them, but the man heading this operation was one of the leading men in her training during her time at the Red Room. She recognized the face in the file; that scar was unmistakable. After all, she had given it to him in her attempt to escape. The slice of a rusty old kitchen knife at his forehead; it left the mark she had intended. As she ran into his thugs, she shot them without a second thought. This was her battle, not anyone else's.

Somehow, she was holding the wheezing of her breath to a minimum as she wound her way through the hallways. Then, she was at a dead end, but she knew better. Luckily for her, Marvin Koosmanoff didn't change his passcodes often. She typed in the code on the key pad and the walls slid away to reveal the man she was waiting for.

"Oh, Natalia," he smirked with his hands clasped on his desk. "I've been expecting you."

"It's Natasha now," she said blankly. Her eyes were narrowed into dark slits and she looked positively evil and vengeful. She took in her former tormentor in as she stepped closer to him. His dark hair had become peppered with tell-tale gray hairs, his menacing black eyes were glazed over with age and his charming face had taken on some wrinkles. And that scar; she stifled a smile when she saw it. The pale line right above his eye, jagged and long. Her personal victory.

"That's what I've heard," Koosmanoff said. "You kept that unfortunate code name, though, didn't you?"

Natasha stayed silent refusing to show how scared she really was. He was confusing her, playing a game with her and she refused to loose.

"You've made a name for yourself, as one of the good guys."

"They pay better," Natasha replied.

"What is it that I owe the honor of having you standing in my office?"

"Let's skip the games, Koosmanoff," Natasha demanded. "You and I both know why I'm here. You're an inconvenience to my government and I'm here to take you out."

"What makes you so sure that you can take me out? After all, I taught you everything I know."

And then it broke out. The fighting, the slashing, the struggling. He pierced through her skin and she jabbed him in the chin with a clean upper-cut. It was pure instinct for her, Natasha had to win. She _had_ to. And that's when he gave out. Koosmanoff fell to the floor with her knife lodged in his leg. Quickly, Natasha pinned him to the ground pressing her weight into his chest.

"Not everything," she hissed reaching behind her and yanking the dagger out of his leg. His cry of pain echoed in the crumbling room. The flames had engulfed the office as well, but she didn't notice. She was set on revenge. Natasha pressed the tip of the dagger against his chest and slowly applied pressure. It pierced slowly through his skin, it was a torturous death.

"Ivan knows where you are," he coughed splattering his blood on her face. And that did her in, she shoved the dagger through his heart and yanked it out quickly. She pulled the chip out of the computer and stomped on it.

They waited for her in the square impatiently. It had been several minutes since the robots stopped working, but there was no sign of the Black Widow. The building she had run into was enveloped in flames and they were beginning to assume the worst.

Another minute passed.

And another.

There was still no Natasha.

Then, there she was. Limping out of the fire-breathing building. Her hair was burned up and uneven, her skin was licked by the flames, fear was written all over her face, blood was squishing through her fingers that were pressed to her side, blood was splattered all over her, she was stumbling over every step, and she was choking on the labored breaths.

Clint dropped his bow –a very un-Hawkeye thing to do –and ran toward her. His arms wrapped around her and he pulled her into his body. A shriek of pain escaped her busted lips, but she didn't mind it. Natasha needed him, despite her own pride. She needed to feel that someone was protecting her and she didn't need to keep her guard up.

"Don't ever do that again," he said into her singed hair.

She was shaking against his body with fear. Like she had seen a ghost.

"It's okay," he soothed.

She knew it wasn't though, he was lying even if he didn't know it. Ivan knew where she was and that was putting everyone in danger. _Ivan knew where she was._ How did he find her?

* * *

**Ohhhh! What did you think? Honestly, Idon't think that was my best work. Anyway, please review!**

**Love,**

**Kaylie**


	31. Chapter 31: Losing The Game

**Fair warning, this chapter is depressing and very short. But, I swear that it gets better after this. **

**I own nothing!**

* * *

Natasha shot up out of bed, covered in cold sweat. Her breath was ragged and she was tangled up in the sheets of her bed. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't blink away _his_ eyes. The evil gold flecks in the cold brown eyes. _Ivan Petrovitch._ The man who single-handedly broke her; turned her into the monster she was.

Ignoring the pain of her newest on-the-job injuries, Natasha walked down the hallway the gym doors and found her usual spot in the corner with the punching bag. It was a routine now: try to sleep, awake thrashing from nightmares, and end up in the gym. Cover the signs of lack of sleep with makeup and all of them were none the wiser. That's the was it had been since that last battle; the last straw.

_"Ivan knows where you are,"_ Marvin's voice rasped in her mind.

Another punch to the bag.

_"Black Widow."_

Punch. Kick. Punch.

_"I've been expecting you."_

By now, the scabs on her knuckles were re-opened and tears were streaming down her cheeks. She knew she must've looked like a mess. Natasha's hair was still a mess from the fire, her skin was burned and blistered from the flames, her eyes were red from crying, she was sure she had last weight she couldn't afford to loose and the bandages had come off her body revealing the sloppily stitched up lines gracing her body. It had been a month since she had killed her ex-trainer and she had been on edge ever since.

She fell to her knees and buried her head in her hands. Her body was shaking with sobs, her hand cupped over her mouth to stifle the sound of her gasping. This disgusted her, the fact that she was broken. _Desperate._ This was the kind of thing she considered weak and human. Two things she had tried to hide so well from everyone. How had it gone so wrong? How had she become like one of _them?_ Since when did she feel human emotion?

* * *

Love. It was a lie, but it was a lie he needed. That's what he told himself as he sat before his team with Bobbi sitting next to him. For some reason, out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Natasha. She was sitting with her head propped up on her arm. Short red hair fell into her eyes and her attention was directed anywhere, but him. Come to think of it, she wasn't paying attention to anyone. Natasha had on dark skinny jeans, a pink skin-tight tank top and a gray sweatshirt that had sleeves that went past her hands.

The team was back on the Helicarrier –thanks to their new handler –turning in their paperwork from their last mission. Bobbi decided that it was as good as time as any to tell everyone the 'fantabulous' news. So, that's what they were doing. Sitting around the conference table, the team –minus the spy off in her own world – chatted idly.

"Guys," Bobbi interrupted smiling widely. "We've got great news."

Natasha's head shot up and there was a look on her face that Clint couldn't recognize.

"We're engaged," she squealed.

It seemed like the team didn't know how to respond. They were caught at whether they should be happy or they should question them –which distinctly resembled a look of shock.

Then, there was Natasha who had a look that was blank written on her face. On the inside she was screaming out. The words that came out of Bobbi's mouth felt like a smack across her face. She ran her fingers through her ratty hair before she made a calculated decision. Natasha slammed her hands on the table and rose to her feet.

"I –I have to go," she muttered as the look of indifference melted rapidly off of her face revealing the truth.

Before any of them could say anything, she was gone. Walking quickly down the SHIELD corridor with tears slowly dripping down her face. She ignored the looks she got, The Black Widow _never_ cried –as far as the other agents were concerned. Her arms were crossed over her chest like she was hugging herself.

"Natasha," she heard him call. Sighing, she stopped, but did not face him before wiping at the spilled tears.

"What do you want, Clint?" Natasha grumbled. It came out angrier than she intended it to.

"What's wrong?" Clint asked.

"Nothing," she lied refusing to meet his gaze.

"Nat, just tell me," Clint pleaded.

Natasha gave in to the human emotion inside of her and looked at him straight on. "Do you love her?" She asked desperately.

"What?"

"_Do you love her_?" She repeated.

"Of course," Clint said trying to convince himself as well as the Widow in front of him.

"Bullshit," Natasha said.

"No, don't bullshit me, Natasha."

"Love is fake," she hissed. "It's a game that normal people play. It makes liabilities out of the best of us. Gives people like _us_ an exposed weakness. A weakness we can't afford."

"Look who's talking, you're a hypocrite, Natasha. You're with Steve."

He didn't mean for his name to come across with so much venom.

"No, I'm not," Natasha screamed stomping her foot like a child. After all, this was all childish anyway; why not throw a temper-tantrum while they were at it. "I ran away from it, I ended it. And even if I was with Steve, that would be different."

"How?"

"Because Steve can take care of himself in a fight. Bobbi can't, I would know, I saved her from a freaking alien."

"What do you have against her?"

"She's _weak._ And no matter how much you try to explain to her, she won't ever understand why we put our necks on the line. She doesn't get why we can't just quit, you said so yourself. She doesn't understand why we wake up screaming or why we are so closed off."

"So, what? She's normal. Maybe that's what I want."

She stopped; her words hitched in her throat. Her glare broke and she closed off again. Her eyes, however, flashed a look of hurt.

"Normal; that's what you want?"

"More than anything," Clint said.

"Then, be my guest," Natasha said her emerald eyes brimming with tears. She turned on her heel and walked away from him.

It was over; she couldn't fight anymore. It was useless. She just wasn't good enough for him. He wanted normalcy and that was something she could never, _ever _give to him. Bobbi won even if she didn't know that. Natasha, for the first time every, had admitted that she had lost.

* * *

**What did you think? Please review! Also, if you have any suggestions, you can review or leave me a PM. **

**Love,  
Kaylie**


	32. Chapter 32: You're Engaged

**So, here is another cliff hangar, just warning you in advance. **

**I own nothing!**

* * *

She looked herself over in the mirror with the scrutany that had become her mindset in the months that had followed the incident on the Helicarrier. Natasha resented herself; who she had become. It was obvious to her team that she had been drained of the last bit of humanity she had held onto, only Clint knew the reason for that. She had become an emotionless SHIELD robot. There was nothing past the missions or the endless hours in the gym. This time, she had really snapped. But, it wasn't like after the missions that had gone wrong and she locked herself in one of the empty apartments with her violin and didn't come out for days. She didn't close off, she didn't lock herself away. No, she was still there, but at the same time, she wasn't. She was always on edge, always watching her back. A spy on the clock 24/7.

"Stark," Natasha said walking into the otherwise empty room. Her voice caught him off guard causing him to choke on the cornflakes he was shoveling into his mouth. She had been almost entirely silent for three months, making calculated comments only when asked. "I need a favor."

"Depends on what it is, Ruby-locks," Stark coughed.

Natasha sat down across from him at the counter and folded her hands on the table in front of her. He hadnt noticed until now, but she had her catsuit on and it revealed just how bony she had become. It was hard to tell how much weight she had lost when she was shrouded in the shapeless gray gard that had become her waredrobe since that last team-mission. Maybe it was after Clint had chased after her when things had gotten really bad. No one was really sure what had happened in the hallways of the Helicarrier all those months ago –Clint sure wasn't going to talk about it –but they new for a fact that it might have destroyed the deadliest duo forever.

"I need you to go with me on my next mission," she stated.

"Why not take, Birdbrain?"

"It's personal."

"So why not take him, he knows the most about you?"

"He is the _last_ person I want to take on a mission like this."

"So take, Capsicle."

"He wouldn't be able to do a mission like this."

"Where is it?"

"A frozen wasteland outside Moscow," Natasha said.

"Oh, the Iceprincess' home land," Tony joked.

"You hit it right on the nose."

"So, that's why you don't want Steve to go with you."

"He doesn't need to know about the terrible things that I went through as a kid. Why I have the scars. Whoever goes with me will get all of that."

"So, I take it that we are going deep into the dark and devious past of the great Natasha Romanoff."

"Actually, Natalia Romanova."

"How long are we going to be gone?"

"A few months," she stated hopefully. She was on thin ice at this point, it was probable that Stark wouldn't be willing to be leave for more than a few weeks. After all, Pepper had just had their first daughter, Missy-Ann Stark, less than three months ago and even Stark new how big-a-deal that was.

"Natasha," Tony sighed.

"Please," Natasha begged. "This mission is really important and I can't take anyone else."

"Why can't you just petition for a new partner?"

"Because that could take up to a year and I don't have a year if this mission doesn't get done."

"I'm guessing there's more to this than you're letting on."

So, Natasha explained it to him. How they were going to be going in on the Red Room, –what the hell that was after Stark asked –the fact that she hadn't mentioned to Fury that she was compromised when it came to the people she was to take out, the fact that this was the 'agency' that destroyed her, and why she this mission was on top priroity. But, she didn't tell him about Koosmanoff back in the fire or what she had been keeping from her team and SHIELD for several months.

"Fine," Stark sighed. "But, only because you asked so nicely."

"Great," she smiled –or the closest she had come to a smile in awhile. "We leave tomorrow morning. Wheels up at eight-thirty a.m. sharp."

* * *

"Where are you going?" Clint asked standing in her doorframe. The sun was still missing from the sky and the pink light of the rise was streaming through her windows dancing on the walls. Natasha was shoving clothes into the black duffle bag that she had designated for missions only. Stark had told him that they were leaving this morning, but –no matter how many threats Clint spewed –the billionaire would not reveal the details.

"Why do you care?" Nataasha asked. She was amazed that he was actually talking to her, it had been _months_ since he had spoken to her.

"Nat, don't do this," Clint said.

"I'm just doing what I have to do," she stated zipping the bag.

They were the only ones in the Tower –maybe even New York –awake at this indecent hour. She was clad in her uniform with her red locks framing her face neatly. It was obvious –though she still looked breathtaking –that she had lost weight she couldn't afford to loose. There was makeup covering the flaws, but –after all the years he had known her –he could still makeout what she was masking.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"How much did Stark tell you?"

"Enough," Clint said running his hand through his mess of dirty blond hair.

"You can't talk me out of this," Natasha said.

"I know," Clint said walking up behind her.

She turned around to face him, but didn't meet his gaze.

"Where are you going?"

"Home." She stated looking up at him.

And, then, he got it. She was going back to Russia, back to the Red Room. Natalia Romanova was rising from the dead and going after the one thing she desired more than anything. The fall of Ivan Petrovitch.

"Natasha, you can't."

"But, I can and I will."

"Does Fury know?"

"He assigned me the mission, but he doesn't know how I'm connected to the Red Room."

"Nat, you're compromised."

"Don't call me that," she said. "And if you had a chance to end the Carson Cirus, you would do the exact same thing I'm doing."

He didn't say anything, he knew she was right. "Why are you taking Stark? The baby is only a few months old."

"Clint, he agreed and you think I want to leave? She means everything to me. They picked me, of all people, to be her god-mother."

"I have to do this," she said. "Otherwise, nothing can be right and I'll spend the rest of my life always looking over my shoulder."

"Is Ivan after you, is that what this is about?" His voice was rising.

"Is this all we do now? Scream at each other?" Natasha said her voice leveling with his.

She grabbed her bag and started to walk past him when he made a calculated decision. He grabbed her by the arm and yanked her back. Clint pinned her to the wall and he smacked his lips against hers. Immediately, she responded and thankfully it didn't involve punching him.

Natasha's lips moved along with his and next thing they knew, clothes were being thrown around the room careleessly. They fell onto the bed. And it was like she was seventeen again, but at the same time, so much had changed. Lips roamed past the mouth and they were one again. Hair was tangled and lipstick was smeared all over their faces.

"Clint," she moaned as he thrusted harder and faster.

And then, it was over and they were tangled up in each other chests rising and falling in sync. Her head resting on his chest and his hand running up and down her arm.

And then, she shot away from him. "You're engaged," she said emerald eyes wide with realization with what had just happened. Hastily, she pulled her suit back on and was out the door before he could ask her to wait. And he was twenty-three again and she was gone.

* * *

**Ohhhh, what did you think. Not my best work, I know and kind of sudden. But, I still crave your feedback. Alos, I want your guessses as to what you think will come next. Review! PM! **

**Love,**

**Kaylie**


	33. Chapter 33: It's over

**I own nothing.**

* * *

When Natasha showed up on the SHIELD base –ten minutes late which didn't go unnoticed by Fury –her hair was a mess, her makeup was smeared and her suit was obviously thrown on hastily. She had one boot laced up and tied like it should be while the other one was held in her hand. Natasha Romanoff had officially lost the smooth Black WidowMO and resembled the likes of a teenage girl trying to sneak back in after spending the night at a boy's house. What they didn't realize that she really was like a teenage girl who had just lost her virginity. After all, hadn't she absentmindedly slept with the man who had, in fact, been her first? It was all so terribly scandalous.

"Early morning booty call, Agent Romanoff?" Stark teased as she walked by.

"Not in the mood, Stark," she grumbled.

"What happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it," she muttered plopping down on the bench next to him.

As the jet sped toward the nation that probably housed her doom, Natasha was reminded that she had avoided sleep all night. Involuntarily, her head rested on Tony's shoulder yawning. Why not take advantage of it being a long flight to Moscow? Why not sleep while she still had the chance? Her eyelids drooped as she fell further and further into the surprisingly peaceful state of sleep.

* * *

Natasha stepped into the brisk air of the icy city like she did every day. Stark would come out less then ten seconds after her seemingly a party of one, like he had for the last uneventful two months. She had on a pair of ripped up jeans –thanks to her partner a few years back during an 'accidental' sparring session, -a plain white t-shirt that she had snagged from one of her teammates at one point, bright yellow sneakers (a trend she didn't get,) a long chained necklace with a big pendant and a pair of thick-lenses sunglasses. Her curly hair lay on her shoulders in a way that was strictly Natasha. She looked like a teenager, there was no getting past that, but that was a good thing. Her cover for this mission was a teenager, at least, that's what the people at SHIELD thought. On this mission, Natasha Romanoff could not be discrete like she was used to. No, she was Natalia Romanova, most valued girl that 'belonged' to Ivan Petrovitch.

Ivan was a man who didn't just 'let things go,' that's why he had found her. She was his as far as he was concerned and he was going to get her back or go to the grave trying to. Natasha knew that, so a cover was useless. But, all the same, it was SHIELD protocol and she would –pretend to –follow it.

"Where to, Nat," Tony asked over the comm. as he sat down in the café across the room for her.

"Out of the city. Today is the day," she replied picking up the menu and pretending to browse through the lists of coffees and pastries. Bobbi had officially rubbed off on her, she was worried about calories. It killed her to admit that –even if it was only to herself.

"Kakim on budet segodnya utrom propustit'?" The waiter asked approaching her table. She had to stifle the gag as she felt his eyes running over her body. He was cute –she would give him that –but he was also too young for her. (What will it be tomorrow, miss?)

"Polovina kafe s vystrelom espresso, dva krema i tri sakhara, pozhaluysta," Natasha replied almost choking on the sweetness rolling off her tongue. (Full café with a single shot of espresso, two creams and three sugars, please.)

"Vy poluchili eto," the waiter smiled taking the menu and walking away. (You got it.)

"Oh, someone's got a boyfriend," Stark said into the comm.

"Grow up, Stark," Natasha said into the comm.

"I'll have you know, I'm a father."

"And I'm a spy, are we just stating the obvious now?"

"Rendezvous?"

"The corner with the old man who's a little handsy. You go first."

Stark nodded and walked out of the shop casually not before taking one last gulp of his coffee. Natasha took her time following him, you couldn't be too careful, could you? She had her coffee changed to a to-go order and followed him out a little under twenty minutes later.

On the corner, she met a frozen Tony Stark who had some colorful comments for her.

"What the hell took you so long?" He shivered.

"You can't be too careful," she said. "And, I had to wait for my coffee."

"So, why did you make me wait so long out in the cold?"

"It's not that cold outside, Stark."

"It's below freezing."

"You should stick around for winter; cold gets a whole new meaning in Russia."

"I don't plan on sticking around much longer."

"Alright, here's the plan."

Natasha explained the vague overview of what was to happen. But, somehow she had failed to mention that she probably wouldn't come out of the building alive or how she was planning on go against all orders that she had been given by SHIELD. She knew she was going to make things personal and that was doing everything SHIELD protocol said _not _to. But, at that point, she didn't care. In all honesty, this mission was personal. For her, it was about revenge. It didn't matter why SHIELD sent her in, not anymore.

"That's a little… unspecific, don't you think?" Tony asked.

"That's the thing about these kind of missions; something with always go wrong. You can't make a plan that covers everything."

* * *

"I'm in," Natasha said zipping up her uniform as she walked away from her good work. It consisted of a man with his pants around his ankles, but not much beyond that. A few bullets peppered in his chest, another in his head and blood splattered all over the wall. She only had to take of her uniform partially before he was like putty in her hands.

"That didn't take long," Tony said into the comm.

"I'm good at my job," Natasha said.

"You just took out seven guys and seduced six of them."

"I know the weak spots of men like this. They're in it for one thing, the girls that can't do anything about it."

"How do I get in?"

"Wait for my signal," Natasha said walking through the hallways of the place that broke her. She was indifferent; instinct had taken over her nerves and everything left human inside of her was shut down. Every man she came across earned a bullet in the head. Very few put up a fight and those who did were dead within a matter of seconds. It was almost too easy for her.

Then, she was standing in front of the old office doors and it was déjà-vu. Natasha was six again; small and clawing for something about 'what' she really was. She was using a hairclip to pick the lock, but this time, she shot the knob off without a second of hesitation.

"Now, Stark," Natasha said pushing into the door. "Wait outside the office. It's room 6B on the blueprint."

The room was exactly the same. The stains, the wallpaper, the old desk and the closet. Just like fifteen years ago, he wasn't in the office, but the file cabinet was. She couldn't resist it; she waked slowly toward the metal cabinet holding the answers. She was desperate, again. As she pulled the drawer open, she prayed to the God she hadn't believed in for several years that her folder was still there.  
And it was. Her name –old name –was written in Ivan's messy cursive. _Natalia Romanova._

Greedily, she pulled the file out and skimmed through the pages. She was so enthralled, she didn't notice someone watching her until the words were hanging in the air.

"Well, I knew you couldn't stay away," Ivan's voice spewed into the air.

Quickly, she turned to look at him, startled. He hadn't changed much; he still looked dirty. His dark hair had grayed but remained greasy, his eyes were still dark and mirrored the look of evil Natasha had in her nightmares, the way his skin was pulled grotesquely over his skin in the look of way too much plastic surgery and that smug smirk always splayed on his lips.

"Natasha, is it?" He asked not moving from his spot at the door.

She could hear Stark's words in her ear, but she couldn't comprehend anything. Her mouth was too dry to form words. Natasha's hands were dropped at her side, the grip on her gun tightening, but she couldn't raise her arm to fire. Not yet.

"I've heard all about what you've done. You work for SHIELD now, with _Clint Barton._"

How did he know about SHIELD? How did he know about _Clint, _especially Clint?

"Then, you also know that I take out people like you."

"But, we are the same, Natasha."

"We are not the same," Natasha said.

"Enlighten me."

"You run _this_ organization, you make monsters out of innocent girls."

"And you've killed innocent men."

"You sold girls."

And then, they were fighting. But, it wasn't evenly matched. Natasha won in a matter of seconds. Ivan had never been the strongest in hand-to-hand combat and the fatigue of old age hadn't improved any of that at all.

"Why?" She pleaded tears clouding her eyes. "Why did you do it all?"

Her knife was pressed against his throat, already drawing blood. And then, he smirked at her with the evil hint glittering in his eyes paired with the smug smirk on his lips.

"Because I could," he coughed.

The knife went through his throat and it was gone. He was done. She didn't have to hide anymore. Natasha Romanoff had finally won without significant injury. There was nothing to be scared of, nothing to catch up to her.

"It's over," she said into the comm.

"Then, get out of there," Stark replied.

She grabbed the file that held the answers and left throwing a spider bite into the corner setting the room ablaze.

Stark picked her up and she watched the flames lick the skylight as they flew away. The folder was pressed tightly to her chest and Tony didn't dare ask what was inside.

* * *

**What did you think? I thought that chapter was kind of dark and really hard to write. Please review! Also, if you have any suggestions, PM me and I might just use them.**

**Love,**

**Kaylie**


	34. Chapter 34: Normal is Overrated

**Fair warning, this chapter is kind of short. I'm sorry. I haven't really had a lot of time to write. School has been kind of crazy and I've been going non-stop for the last four weeks. **

**I own nothing!**

* * *

It was six days after she had gotten back and no one had seen her around the pent house, it was like she wasn't even there, but they knew she was. They heard her screaming in the night, saw the blood on the bathroom counter the morning after they got home, found the gauze overflowing the waste basket, but she was like a phantom.

That was what she wanted; she didn't want to be found. Not by anyone; especially not _Clint._ And if it had been up to her, he wouldn't have found her, but she had overdone it in the training room….again. The stitches she had placed so expertly in the arm that had been grazed by Ivan's dagger had been ripped out after a late night sparring session with the punching bag. She dragged herself up to the pent house, hand pressed to her arm praying that everyone was a sleep. Everyone was asleep, but a certain archer had fallen asleep watching TV in the living room. Natasha tried unsuccessfully to sneak past him ending in her backed against a wall with his hand-gun pressed to her temple.

This had happened several times before and she knew she just had to stand still until the recognition washed over the harsh façade in his eyes. Another nightmare leaving him awakening violently.

"Sorry," he sighed backing away from her. The gun landed on the floor by their feet and their eyes stayed plastered on each other's waiting impatiently for a false move. Nothing happened.

"It's fine," she sighed giving up on him opening up. Natasha started down the hallway, blood dripping through her fingers well aware of the man trailing her silently. She switched on the light and pulled the first-aid kit out of the top drawer. Knowing well that Clint wasn't going to let her take care of this on her own, she hopped onto the counter and removed her hands from the bloody area. Clint set to work mending the external wound. He knew there was more on the inside, Tony had told him what had happened on the mission.

"What were you doing training with an injury like that," he asked taping the bandage onto her arm. He knew the answer already, he was guilty of the same offense as well.

"Getting better," she said terrified. "I was too vulnerable on the mission, I needed to improve."

Clint was silent as he rinsed the blood off his hands in the warm water.

"Wanna talk about it?" She asked. He knew she was referring to the nightmare and honestly, he didn't want to talk about it. It was him…. Loki….. He wasn't quite sure who, but he knew that he was fulfilling Loki's threat. He was hurting her and that was worst of it all. She was crying out and he didn't stop, he _couldn't _stop. Everything was washed in a blue tint, but he could still make out the pleading in her eyes.

"Loki?" She asked. How could she read him so well?

"Me…. And you," he choked out.

"Clint," she said. Natasha knew well that going into the whole lecture she had given him on the Helicarrier was useless. It hadn't worked then and it sure as hell wasn't going to work now. "Clint, I have to tell you something," she said, but he didn't hear her and she knew that.

Besides, now was not the time to tell him what she had discovered only the day before from an emergency test she kept in her gym bag. How could she know it would even last? It probably wouldn't; they had taken away the ability for her body to hold a baby to full term, but maybe the doctors at SHIELD had been wrong. Maybe she could have this child; maybe just this once she was getting lucky.

Who was she kidding, she would be a terrible mother? She wasn't nurturing, she didn't have an example of what to go off of and this kid would be a liability.

"It ends the same way every time, I _kill you_ and your blood is on my hands."

"Clint, Loki can't control you anymore. You have control of yourself, and you wouldn't do something like that."

_Would he?_ Something inside of her was wandering that. What if he regretted saving her ? He couldn't, could he? It would make sense, she was a murderer more screwed up than anyone truly knew. She was being childish, loving the man only centimeters away from her.

* * *

Babysitting. Natasha had never thought she would be trusted with a small child, but Tony and Pepper had made that mistake. A eight month old Missy-Ann was sitting on the floor at Natasha's feet playing with her toys and babbling to herself. Clint and Bobbi were supposed to be home any minute from whatever wedding related activity that was today. It seemed like everything had been set except the actual date.

"Do you think Uncle Clint and Bobbi should get married?" Natasha asked leaning over the small child.

Missy continued gurgling sounds that Natasha assumed the baby thought were real words. Yeah, she had said _real _words before –Pepper about had a heart attack when she said '_goop' _only to realize that it wasn't really a word – a few 'Dada's and 'Momma's had been giggled. And there was the occasional 'Na-asa' which was a mangled version of her own name –she would never admit how happy she was when she heard it the first time.

"That's what I thought," Natasha sighed leaning back in the couch. The door to the pent house opened and Bobbi's loud laughter flew in the door.

Natasha rolled her eyes and lifted the child off the floor. Missy rested on her hip easily and –not that anyone who valued their life would say this _out-loud-_ Natasha looked natural with the kid in her arms. Which was strange for a woman who made it look sexy to slit a man's throat.

"Hey," Clint said.

"Hi," she said brushing past the two. Natasha walked into the kitchen grabbing a small baby bowl and balancing the box of cheerios. She buckled Missy into the high-chair and dropped a few cheerios into the bowl. The bowl was pointless; she knew that, the cereal usually ended up dumped all over the tray and the floor.

Natasha sat down in a chair in front of Missy's watching her carefully. The dark hair she had been born with had now become the same strawberry-blonde Pepper had. Her chubby cheeks were still adorable in that baby kind of way. Her eyes were dark just like Tony's. She was the perfect mixture of her parents. Natasha knew that when she grew up, Missy would be beautiful. The boys at whatever fancy private school Stark paid thousands of dollars of tuition for will fawn all over her eliciting the jealousy of all the girls. And no matter what, this little girl would always have this big family of misfits that loved her and would go to the ends of the universe to protect her. So, this little girl would never have a normal life between the superhero family and the billionaire father, but who cared? Normal was overrated anyway.

* * *

**What do you think? Please, pretty please, review. **

**Love,**

**Kaylie**


	35. Chapter 35: Thick Sculled and Pregnant

**I own nothing!**

* * *

It was obvious she was pregnant, at least, to her it was. The way her solid abdomen had started to stretch and round a little. However, when she was fully dressed, you couldn't see it –unless you were a one-eyed director. Somehow, although is astounded her, Nick Fury could tell. Natasha had gone up to base to turn in her paperwork from the Red Room mission and he saw it right away. What really bugged her was that what she was wearing wasn't even that tight. She had on a loosely cut up mint green sweatshirt, a white tank top underneath, a short denim skirt, tan riding boots and her dog tags.

She tossed her backpack over the back of the couch next to Clint and Bruce. The hawk was impatiently flipping through the channels while the doctor set in the corner of the sectional riding a book that was heavy enough to kill a man. Natasha tossed her long red hair u into a ponytail and flopped into the arm chair with an exasperated huff.

"Long day?" Bruce asked peering over the top of his reading glasses.

"You have no idea," she muttered.

"What were you doing at headquarters?" Clint asked.

"Turning in my paperwork from the Red Room mission and getting yelled at by a _very _pissed off Fury."

"What did you do this time?" Clint joked.

"Nothing," she lied easily, but he saw that flash in her eyes. But, really she wasn't lying. This was his fault too even if he wasn't aware of the fact.

Four months. That's how long ago this whole thing stared. Yeah, it was nice that they weren't tiptoeing around each other anymore, but she was hiding something from him that he had the right to know.

But –not that she would ever admit it –she was terrified of how he would react.

_"I'll always be there."_

His words echoed in her head six years later. Clint had promised something she never thought she would depend on.

_"I'm not leaving."_

It had been a successful mission, the first one they had completed together. Some things had gone down and he had to watch them from his perch. Natasha had done some stuff that most other fourteen year olds shouldn't have been okay with, but she did it, no questions asked. He had found her in a Helicarrier bathroom the door locked –it didn't take long to pick it –cold water spewing from the shower head. The water ran over her still-clothed body as she sobbed.

Paying no attention to how deadly she was, he turned the water off and sat down next to her. His arms wrapped around her body and she curled into him. After they finally pulled away, there was a Natasha-sized water print on his t-shirt and pajama pants. He had promised her things she didn't expect him to keep, but he _had._

"Dinner's ready," Pepper called from the kitchen. Pasta, the same thing they had eaten every night for the last month –not that they would mention it to the very-sleep deprived Pepper – lay steaming on the dinning room table.

"Smells great," Steve smiled sitting down in a chair making sure that it wasn't Tony's –that was a dramatic experience.

Pepper smiled widely as she buckled Missy into the highchair. Natasha –surprised Pepper's head hadn't fallen into her own plate –rolled the baby's chair closer to herself and removed the clothing from the baby. They all knew from experience that Spaghetti night was Missy's favorite night, but the worst night to be stuck with cleaning up the kitchen –or doing the laundry. Clint had been the one to decide that it would probably be easier to just give Missy a bath instead of trying desperately to get the marinara out of the cute little onesies they never seemed to have enough of.

Natasha placed a plate of cut-up noodles drenched in pasta on the tray of the highchair along with a cute little purple fork that she knew was kind of pointless. She was attempting to ignore Clint's eyes calculating her every move. Bobbi blabbered on and on about all the details of the wedding that Natasha planned on skipping out on.

After dinner, Natasha pulled the marinara covered baby out of the highchair and carried her toward the shared bathroom down the hall. Pepper started to protest, but Natasha simply shook her head disappearing into the bathroom.

Cool water filled the tub and gallons of baby-bubble bath accompanied it. Gently, Natasha scrubbed away the grime from dinner saying babyish-nothings to the giggling baby in the tub. A rubber ducky floated next to Missy along with the thousands of other bath toys. Clint stood in the doorway watching his head resting against the frame with an involuntary smile splayed on his lips.

"You would be a good mother, Nat," he said.

"What makes you say that?" Natasha asked lifting the baby out of the tub and wrapping her in the hooded ducky towel.

"The way you take such good care of Missy," Clint said lifting the baby out of her arms.

"Yeah, but it's different than being a mom. I'm just her aunt, I take care of her when her parents can't."

"You're so much more than that."

"How would you know?" She snapped. "I've been worthless for the last year."

"We are not going down that road again, Natasha," Clint said.

"You're so thick sculled," she muttered grabbing Missy and pushing past her partner. He could hear her angry footsteps stomping down the hallway.

* * *

It was several hours later, Missy had long since gone to bed and Natasha had locked herself in her room. She blamed her outburst on the hormones, but she knew it was more. Natasha was terrified; this was unstable ground that she was walking on. It had never been an option for her to be a mother and now that it was, she didn't know what to think. Especially since the father was marrying another woman.

Warm tears were overflowing in her eyes as she stood up and pulled on a hoodie she assumed was probably one of the guys'. She slipped into some ugg boots and grabbed the envelope off of her nightstand.

Some nights when she couldn't sleep, she would reopen it and soak in the words written in Phil's sloppy cursive. Tears would fill her eyes and she would sob herself to sleep. That was becoming more and more frequent now.

_Dear Natasha,_

_If you're reading this than you must know that something happened to me and I apologize. You are a hero Natasha, don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Don't let the past define you. Be the new Black Widow, the one who has emotions and lets people see her cry. That's the Natasha you really are. Everyone breaks sometimes and you need to remember that you don't have to be the warrior all the time. _

_Tell Clint you love him. He deserves to know and you deserve to quit running. No matter what he wants you to believe, he loves you too. And quit pulling the 'love is for children' bullshit, we all know you don't believe it anymore. It's just something to cling to. _

_Lastly, I need you to know that I'm glad Clint saved you because you saved him that day too. He was falling apart and you glued him back together and I thank you for that. I'm sorry I'm not going to be there to help you finish your missions or save your asses when you screw up, but I promise that I'm not gone. _

_-Phil_

She hadn't gone to the cemetery ever, not for Phil at least. It was a few blocks away from the tower, she knew that. It was too late for there to be too much traffic, but there were still a few straggling pedestrians. The wind pushed her hair back and her head was pointed toward her feet. She was hugging her body tightly as if that could make up for the lack of human contact.

The iron-spiked gates creaked when she opened them. Her feet clomped against the brick walkway with every step. She skimmed over the names on the headstones until she found his.

_ Phil Coulson_

_ One Hell of a Man_

Natasha chuckled as she crouched down in front of the grave. Her hand clamped over her mouth as the tears turned into gasping sobs.

"I'm so sorry," she said. "I'm so sorry."

She repeated it several times gasping, pleading. Natasha was sorry; sorry for everything. Sorry for leaving, sorry for skipping his funeral and sorry for being a stubborn brat all those years.

"He's marrying Bobbi," she choked out. "He doesn't know that I'm pregnant."

"Phil, he doesn't love me," Natasha sobbed. "He loves Bobbi and she's better for him. Why did you have to leave? You promised that you would always be there, but you aren't you lied. You're just like everyone else."

The words became incoherent as she continued to spew out everything uncontrollably to her deceased handler. She didn't notice the Hawk standing mere feet behind her, hearing every word she said. Once her words ceased his mouth parted.

"You're pregnant?" He asked in a strained voice that at first he didn't realize was his.

* * *

**Ohhhh, cliffy. I'm sorry, I just had to do it. What did you think? Please, click on that little box down there that says review and leave me a lovely message (or not lovely, whatever floats/sinks your boat.) Also, I need to know how much longer you want me to continue writing this story, 'cause I don't want to overstay my welcome on this story. Anyway, happy Friday the 13th and I hope you didn't get attacked by demons. **

**With Love,**

**Kaylie**


	36. Chapter 36: Truth and Love

**I'm so sorry I haven't updated in a really long time it's just Mid-terms and Homecoming was is this week and I am totally swamped. Again, I am so sorry.**

**I own nothing!**

* * *

Natasha turned around to face him, startled. Her makeup was streaming down her face mixed with the saltwater tears, her curly flaming hair was a windblown mess, her emerald eyes displayed a look of a shattered girl and her lips were quivering. She didn't react at all, just stared at him.

"How long?" His voice strained.

"It's yours if you're wandering," she croaked.

"How long have you known," he growled.

"Since I got back from Russia," she replied.

"But the doctors said after that physical that-."

She cut him off. "Yeah, I know what the doctors said all those years ago. What did you think was running through my head when I was sitting in the bathroom with six freakin' pregnancy tests all saying positive?"

"Why did you keep it from me?"

"You acted like it was mistake."

"I acted like it was a mistake? You left for two months."

"It's my job, Clint, you of all people should get that. And when I got back, the first thing I saw was you and Bobbi making out on the couch, what else was I supposed to think?"

"What did you want me to do? Kick her out."

"I thought it was obvious," Natasha said. "I can't stand her. She is nosy, she doesn't get any of the stuff we do, she gives woman a bad name and she has the one thing that I was stupid enough to let myself want."

"What does she have that you're _so_ jealous of?"

"_You_," she muttered looking down at the grass.

Clint was taken aback by how desperate she sounded. She was disgusted with herself; she sounded weak and this whole thing was cliché. But maybe that was okay, just for now.

And that's when time froze and his lips were smashed against hers. Natasha's arms snaked around his neck and she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him. One giant callused hands cupped her face while the other one was placed on the small of her back. She smiled instinctively into the kiss and so did he. They pulled away reluctantly gasping for air.

"I love you, Natasha," Clint smiled pressing his forehead against hers.

"I love you, too," she replied looking into his eyes.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and they started walking back to the Tower. Every so often she would look at up at him or he would press a kiss to the top of her head. This was normal; loving someone. That came naturally and Natasha was giving into the feelings boiling inside of her.

They walked through the door an hour later smiling widely. The lights were off and the rest of the team was asleep. Silently, they tiptoed to Natasha's room and the door shut silently behind them. Natasha walked over to her closet pulling her clothes off revealing her baby bump. She took her bra off and pulled a tank top off a hanger. The tank top was yanked on over her head and paired with some plaid flannel pajama pants.

Yawning, she lied down on the bed next to Clint and he pulled her close to his chest. He pushed her shirt up and lied his hand on her rounding stomach. At about four months pregnant, Natasha's stomach was stretching. She placed her hand on top of his and curled into him.

"Beautiful," he muttered running a hand through her matted curls.

Natasha fell asleep being held by this man that she had become so weak for. By the man she loved.

* * *

The next morning, she woke up still wrapped up in his arms. He was holding tightly to her like she might leave again.

"Morning," she smiled her voice rasping with sleep.

Clint smiled at her pressing a soft kiss on her forehead. She scooted closer to him if that was even possible.  
"We better get up before everyone else does so we don't have to deal with this," Natasha said pulling a t-shirt over her head.

"Don't you think our team should know?"

"Tony would keel over," she said running a brush through her matted hair.

"I'll get a camera."

"Bobbi would try to kill me."

"No she wouldn't."

"I slept with her fiancé and am having his baby; don't you think she's gonna be a little pissed off?"

"Since when did you care what other women think about you?"

"When did I become a woman?" She countered. "You told Bobbi six months ago that I was like the kid of the tower."

"Because you were nineteen when we all moved in."

"If I remember correctly, that is the legal adult age to your government."

"Oh, are we back on that now, Romanoff?"

Natasha hadn't pulled the '_your government'_ crap for several years. In fact it had been almost seven and the last time she had was when he was trying to get her on the Helicarrier alive.

"Maybe we are, I haven't decided yet."

"Well, if I recall correctly _my government_ saved _your ass_," Clint smirked pulling her against him. He bent down and pressed a soft kiss on her lips.

"All technicalities," she whispered kissing him again. "And it was you who saved my ass. Government had nothing to do with it."

"Mhmmm," Clint moaned against her lips.

Hours later, Natasha was sitting at her desk in her room completely still. She stared at the folder labeled _Natalia Romanova_ in block letters. Her face was blank, her eyes unblinking and her hands itching in her lap to touch the folder. Natasha's hand brushed across the folder unable to bring herself to actually open it. This is what she did everyday, she had since she got back four months ago. Fury didn't know she had the folder and he probably would've confiscated it if he knew about it.

And finally, she opened it.

* * *

**Please review! I know, another Cliff Hanger, I just couldn't help myself. I hope te next update will come sooner than this one. **

**Love,**

**Kaylie**


	37. Chapter 37: An Act

**I own nothing!**

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**Previously…**

_This is what she did everyday, she had since she got back four months ago. Fury didn't know she had the folder and he probably would've confiscated it if he knew about it._

_And finally, she opened it._

* * *

Her green eyes ran over the page hungrily terrified to miss anything. The truth, she was drunk on it. There had never been any hope that she would ever find out this much about the family she was supposed to have. Everything she had wondered about was just sitting there typed up so plainly like it was just a high school English paper.

**_Romanoff_**

_Aleksandra Aristov:_

_ Born: November 30, 1969_

_ Record: Hire assassin _

_ Espionage _

_ Hand Combat_

_ Handy with any kind of weapon_

_ Very Dangerous_

_ Status: TERMINATED-1996_

_Grigory Romanoff_

_ Born: June 15, 1960_

_ Record: Hand Combat_

_ Hire assassin_

_ Strong with a Gun_

_ Kill on sight_

_Status: TERMINATED-1993_

_Dusha Romanoff_

_ Born: September 27, 1989_

_ Record: Hand combat_

_ Easily Angered_

_ Strong with a knife_

_ Hire Assassin_

_ Status: TERMINATED-2007_

_Dmitry Romanoff_

_ Born: July 1, 1990_

_ Record: Hire Assassin_

_ Patient_

_ Strong with gun_

_ Weak Hand Combat_

_ Status: UNKNOWN_

_Natasha Romanoff_

_ Born: January 16, 1992_

_ Record: Black Widow Program_

_ Red Room_

_ Strong with any weapon_

_Hand Combat_

_ Hire Assassin_

_ Espionage_

_ Very Dangerous_

_ Status: Missing: 2001 _

Her brother could still be out there. Natasha's breathe hitched as it all started to fall into place. Someone she was actually related to might still be alive.

"What the hell do you mean you don't want to get married anymore," Natasha heard Bobbi's shrill scream.

Natasha moved out into the hallway soon enough to see Bobbi throw something that resembled a phone book at Clint. Though it was off aim, Natasha was impressed that she actually managed to get it as far as she did. She figured anger made regular people stronger than they actually were.

"I can't marry you," Clint said calmly.

"Why not," Bobbi hissed through clinched teeth. "Is it because of that _bitch?"_ Bobbi's finger jabbed in her direction. And everything just stopped. "I know she loves you and it's pretty damn obvious you love her."

"Wait a minute," Natasha cut in. "I don't _do_ love."

"Oh, please," Bobbi scoffed. "It's all apart of some stupid act. You grew up just like I did, you went to school and some douche broke your heart so bad that you went all dark."

Before anyone could blink, Bobbi was pressed to a wall with a gun to her head and an angry Natasha ready to press the trigger. The gathered spectators were to shocked to stop the scene unraveling in front of them.

The Widow was feeding off the terror in Bobbi's eyes.

"I wasn't like you growing up, I thought love was a lie when I was growing up, I killed because I needed to live or just because I could. I was a monster, I _am _a monster. I was kidnapped when I was a child. I didn't have a childhood, I didn't go to football games with my friends. I murdered people, _innocent _people. What I do isn't an act, it's protection I learned when I was little. Hurt or be hurt. Kill or be killed. Keep everyone out and you will be untouchable."

Bobbi stuttered a response and Natasha backed away from her shoving the gun back in the pocket of Clint's sweatshirt that was draped over her body.

"Leave," Clint spat. "Get your stuff and go."

Natasha stared at her hands not daring to meet anyone's gaze. Everything that had came out of her mouth was true, but that was the first time she had ever said that all together to someone who was going to live. I fact only one man knew that much about her and it had taken him years to get that much about her. Clint. She knew he was staring at her, which was something he always did when she blew up around him. He watched her out of the corner of his eye and unless you knew him well, you wouldn't have noticed it. Steve noticed it, Tony noticed it, and Bobbi who was stumbling down the hall noticed it too.

* * *

It was days later and the whole Bobbi thing had blown over. Natasha was on base –unbeknownst to any of the other agents. There were only a few agents running around and she figured it must've been a slow few months with Red Room gone. None of them had realized how big the corporation really was, not even Natasha.

Clint was there too, but he had other business to take of and she doubted he even knew she was there. Natasha had left before the sun was even up. She needed to get into the database _now_.

If her brother was still out there, SHIELD would have to know something about him. The only problem was that Fury would never let her anywhere near the database after what happened last time she did –she might've accidentally broken SHIELD's database for a few days. And no one she lived with could know what she was after. So it was up to her, that's the way she liked it best; no one to try and stop her.

She sat down at the computer and typed in the one name she had hope for. Dmitry Romanoff. The file came up on the screen and there he was. Everything he had ever been just right there on the screen. Seventeen SHIELD agents had gone in after him, six had come back with severe injury, three were still tracking him down, two had come back dead and the rest were still missing. He was dangerous, but not as dangerous as her.

She could probably find him, easy, but did he want to be found?

* * *

**And that's it for this chapter. What did you think? I kinda think I'm dragging the story on and on and on. Like, there isn't much more I can do with this story. Should I write a few more chapters and then do a sequel? I guess tell me what you think. Please review, I haven't got a lot lately and I get that you guys have lives outside of fanfics, but I feel like no one out there is actually reading this fic anymore. Is there anyone out there? If so, please tell me. **

**Love always,**

**Kaylie**


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